


Greyer's Guide to Surviving on Jakku

by Rayner_Fox13



Series: Greyer's Guide to the Galaxy [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, How Do I Tag, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22313401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rayner_Fox13/pseuds/Rayner_Fox13
Summary: It was almost a year to the day since the destruction of the New Jedi Temple and the turn of Kylo Ren, and something in the Force was moving. It had to be something big for Greyer to have felt it.Greyer might have been trained to be a Jedi. She was even well on her way to becoming a Jedi Knight when the Temple fell. However, she'd always had trouble seeking and receiving guidance from the Force.But she felt this.Even through her grief and the turmoil of losing so much in the standard year prior, Greyer felt the Force moving. So, she did what she had to do. She followed it.She followed it all the way to Jakku, to Niima Outpost, and Greyer had to wonder why the Force lead her here, of all places.Jakku was already a backwater world, and Niima Outpost was backwater by Jakku's standards. But Greyer was there and she was staying until she understood why the Force wanted her here.Greyer was going to be there a while, and this is her guide to surviving on Jakku, among other things.
Series: Greyer's Guide to the Galaxy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1606114
Comments: 18
Kudos: 4





	1. Entries: 1 - 5

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting a story here. I hope you enjoy the adventure. Special thanks if you read the whole chapter!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Greyer arrives on Jakku and begins to build a life there as a moisture farmer and what happens she had to defend herself.

>   
>  **Entry # 1**

She squinted, taking in the brilliant gold of Jakku’s desert wastelands. These were the Western Reaches, this was where the Force had called her to: Niima Outpost.

Apart of her wondered if she’d been mistaken as she wandered the Niima Outpost. Was it the Force that had really called her here, or was it another fevered dream she was prone to have? She still wasn’t sure, but she was certain of one thing: whatever had directed her to Jakku, the Force or some dark-side fevered dream, she’d heard it clearly.

Clarity. That was something she wasn’t used to. She’d never been good at listening to the Force for guidance, not on matters that weren’t related to the immediate moment. Even with mediation, she couldn’t sense anything with enough clarity to act.

Master Luke told her, long ago, that the dark side cloud she always sensed would pass with time, but it hadn’t and he wasn’t her master now anyway.

“You’re new here,” someone stated, breaking through her meditative contemplation. 

She turned towards the speaker. A girl who couldn’t have been older than fourteen or fifteen, dressed is a makeshift, threadbare, tan tunic and pants and wrappings was demanding answers of her.

“Who are you?” 

“I’m called Greyer.”

“That’s a funny name,” the girl said, and Greyer chuckled.

“Yeah, it is. It’s the one I’ve chosen. What’s yours, kid?” Greyer tried to seem relaxed. But she wasn’t. The Force wanted her here after all, didn’t it? She was still figuring that one out.

The girl seemed to consider for a moment before answering, “I’m Rey.”

Greyer nodded. “That’s a good one.”

Greyer began to walk away, feeling that the conversation was complete. 

She wanted to look around. She needed more information before she wrote off what her gut told her was a crazy fevered dream or confirm it as the Force. She had to know why she was here, whatever that meant.

“Why are you here?” Rey asked. She began to walk beside Greyer. It was now that she noticed the netted bag that the girl dragged behind her.

Greyer listened for a moment. The noises of people and animals drifted across the sands, but that wasn’t what Greyer wanted to hear. She focused a little hard, but there was nothing, nothing more. Just the Force and it flowed through all living things around Niima Outpost.

“Hmm…”

She listened to the life forces of all around. 

She was in danger of nothing more than a grubby pickpocket - at worst an ambitious mugger. They wouldn’t be a bother yet, but Greyer wasn’t concerned about them. What she wanted was deeper within the Force.

“ _ **Listen,**_ ” it said. 

Greyer’s eyes widened. It wasn’t every day that she could hear so clearly.

Rey repeated herself, “So, what are you doing here?” 

A smile quirked on Greyer’s lips. “Listening. I’m listening. That’s what I’m doing.”

“You’re a weird Off-Worlder,” Rey said, trotting forward. “Well, if you want food, you can get it over there, and you can get water from them, sometimes. I think Thire’s is having trouble - so Niima is having to bring in water.”

Greyer raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t there moisture farmers in the area? On a planet like this, there should be dozens around here alone.”

Rey shook her head. “Just Thire, but it’s Niima Outpost, what did you expect? If you have a ship, Off-Worlder, you might want to leave when you can.”

With that, Rey dragged her haul off somewhere. 

Greyer didn’t have a ship. She’d sold the crummy star runner for supplies a couple of cycles back. She’d found her way off worse worlds before, Jakku would be no different when it was time to leave.

>   
>  **Entry # 2**

She was called Greyer. It wasn’t her birth name by any means. But she’d been called Greyer for so long that it was a realer name to her than the one her mother gave her.

Greyer was what she introduced herself as when she met the locals around Niima Outpost.

She had no ship and no intention of leaving just yet. For once in Greyer’s life, the Force gave her clarity on what to do and Greyer would be damned if she didn’t follow through.

Jakku wasn’t too bad, by her standards. 

Greyer had hidden out on far less populated and much worse than this desert planet. It wasn’t what Greyer would choose, but she was here and going to make the best of it. 

It wasn’t the verdant, lush jungles the Resistance sometimes holed up in nor was it anything like the rolling hills of Chandrila where she was born. But Greyer would make the most of it, as she’d always done.

The first months of living around Niima Outpost were tough, though. Her restless nature got the better of her at one point and she purchased a ship from the scavenger merchant, Unkar Plutt, on an impulse. Greyer used the last of the supplies she’d brought with her to buy it, so she’d have to make due with the ones her junky star runner had bought her when she arrived on Jakku.

The ship she’d bought wouldn’t get her off-world yet, but it kept her busy when her hands were idle.

Fixing it gave her something to do while she scrapped together vaporators. That was her plan for staying on Jakku long term. Moisture farming would provide an income when her supplies came to an end.

She didn’t know how long she’d be here. The Force wasn’t clear at the best of times for Greyer, so she needed to prepare to be here a while.

Greyer just hoped that she wasn’t taking a page out of Obi-Wan Kinobi’s book. It took a lot for Greyer to sit still at the best time, and this didn’t count.

>   
>  **Entry # 3**

Greyer sat on top of her freighter ship, thinking to herself how much the freighter looked like the Millennium Falcon. She couldn’t be sure. She hadn’t seen the Falcon before. She only heard of it in war stories.

She had to settle for the mystery of it though, so she reached for her canteen of water and rehydrated bread. A meager meal compared to what she was used. It was a Jakku staple, so it was hers too.

The last of her foodstuffs ran out about a week ago, by her estimates - it was hard to tell since Jakku rotated slower than a standard planetary cycle. Days tended to blur together at this point. But it didn’t matter how many exact days it’d been, the protein and calorie-rich food packs were gone and Greyer’s stomach felt it.

She’d rationed what she’d could and made everything last as long as possible, but it was gone and the signs that her human body already felt were showing.

The lean layers of fat, and even unshed baby fat, slipped away. Greyer knew she’d be able to count her ribs sooner than she’d like. Even with the Resistance, during the most prolonged sieges against the First Order, didn’t result in rations this small. General Organa wouldn’t let her troops go hungry if it could be helped.

Greyer was thinking about this when someone hollered at her. 

“Hey, _Off-Worlder_ , I got something for you!”

Greyer glanced down to the sands below her ship. It was Rey, hauling a net of junk behind her and waving up at Greyer.

She plugged up her canteen and pocketed the last of her rehydrated bread. She wasn’t about to let any of her small meal go to waste.

“Hurry up,” the scavenger girl called from the base of her ship.

“I’m coming!”

Greyer grabbed one of the many cables attached to her ship and used it to lower herself down. 

It wasn’t a graceful landing. Of course, it wasn’t, Greyer hadn’t used the Force for anything beyond meditating in months. She wanted to keep a low profile around here, the last thing she wanted was the First Order thinking that a former Jedi Padawan was running around Jakku.

“What'cha got for me, kid?” Greyer asked, dusting herself off.

“Do you think this’ll work for the broken vaporator you were talking about?” Rey unwound her bag and displayed her haul for Greyer’s inspection.

Like most things on Jakku, they were sandy and caked with grime from long years of decay and scavenged from the corpses of ships lost in battles before either Rey or Greyer were born.

Regardless of age, Greyer was thankful for the scrap that Rey found. It’d been difficult to make vaporators from found parts, but not impossible. The water her first iterations produced was invaluable to her survival in Niima.

“Hmm…” Greyer held up a cylindrical piece. It was jagged at either end, but a quick weld cut or two, or even a hand saw could fix it. “Ya think it’s insulated?”

“Maybe.” Rey shrugged. “I got it from a life support system in a TIE fighter.”

“I’ll take this and any more like it if there’re more.”

“ _Really_?”

Greyer nodded. “Yeah, so hand me your jugs. I’ll pay you in advance to.”

That put a smile on the younger girl’s face. 

In short order, Greyer filled Rey’s jugs with precious water. That’d keep the girl going for a long time, and Greyer didn’t even care if she saw another part from Rey, so long as she helped Rey stay alive.

It hurt Greyer’s heart to see someone so young fending for themselves on such a harsh planet.

>   
>  **Entry # 4**

Greyer’s internal clock was all sort of nuts. If she’d been a droid, her masters would have replaced her temporal systems two or three times by now.

It came from years of forcing herself to live by the First Order universal time table. Being a Resistance spymaster for that long, living on First Order time was a benefit. But living as a moisture farmer on Jakku, it was more of a drawback.

Sometimes, Greyer wished she knew which general or administer in the First Order or the Empire had made the decision because Greyer would like to tell them a thing or two about their choice. 

Revenge wasn’t the Jedi way, but Greyer considered at least depriving them of their preferred morning stimulate - coffee or otherwise - for the rest of their existence. She was petty.

Jakku’s daily planet rotation was slower than the normal First Order daily work cycle. It meant that Greyer sometimes felt sleepy mid-day on Jakku, and others, it meant she was wide awake with stars still out.

Sometimes, this benefitted Greyer and others it annoyed her.

That morning, as Greyer rolled off her bunk, haunted by her dreams, it was a benefit.

Her morning routine had greatly diminished since coming to Jakku. With water lacking, she could barely afford to wipe her face with a damp cloth, and bathing was unheard of now. So, she wiped her face off with a cloth sans water, checked her boots for unwelcome squatters, put them on, and headed out of her shack to check the vaporators.

The sky was dark and Greyer could see her breath condense in front of her face as she mounted her scrapped together speeder bike. Niima Outpost was still asleep as she headed for her vaporators.

She’d them planted in the lee of the biggest hills she could find near Niima and she had plans to move nearer to them, but for the moment, they were safe. 

The Jakku locals who scavenged that area knew better than to mess with them. Greyer was providing a consistent supply of water and not even the greediest junk boss wanted to interfere with that.

The cold morning air bit into Greyer’s skin as she sped towards her vaporators. Conventional wisdom dictated that she should have bundled up, but Greyer narrowed her focus and listened to the Force as she rode off.

It’d be a couple more hours before any condensed water her vaporators collect unfroze. That made it the perfect time to meditate away from the bustle of Niima Outpost. It was rare that she heard anything, but rare didn’t mean never.

At the very least, it’d help her shake another of her dark-side related nightmares. 

Her fevered dreams were coming on with more frequency. The dreams hadn’t rattled her in years, but it perturbed her that they were coming more often now.

Greyer always knew she was more connected to the dark-side than most of the other Padawans she’d trained alongside. She’d grown used to darkness clouding her thoughts and feelings and meditations. She could put it out of her mind with ease by the age of sixteen, but that side of the Force always managed to influence her dreams.

Since coming to Jakku, though, that mental influence began to decrease. She’d spent more time meditating, so her guard was higher.

But now her dreams seemed stronger than ever.

“ _The Ren must be up to something,_ ” Greyer thought as she rounded a dusky dune. “ _That means Kylo must be active too. I don’t like it._ ”

She leaned into the turn, trying to maintain her momentum. Greyer preferred to use as little fuel as possible during her morning rounds. She’d need what she saved on the outbound for the inbound trip when the tanks were filled with water.

A credit save was a credit hard-earned for Greyer right now.

The dunes turned craggier as Greyer rod on. She was almost to her vaporators now. Once the sandy dunes turned to rocky hills and eroded buttes, her vaporators were a kilometer from a crashed TIE fighter and over a dead river bed.

Greyer peered through Jakku’s night, and guided her speeder bike over the crags and slowed down.

Her five vaporators stood tall against the dark outline of the high ridge with a sixth partially built down the line. At first glance, all five looked to be in full working order and in hibernation mode. No one had interfered with their collection of water, which Greyer was always thankful for.

With a huffy breath, she dismounted and pulled a satchel of tools and rugged parts from its secure spot and over her shoulders.

“Wonder what today’s problems are gonna be,” Greyer muttered and pulled her tan robes and wrappings tighter around her form. 

The cold finally started to bug her. The thin clothes she’d begun wearing didn’t do much to prevent Jakku’s nighttime cold, but Greyer had no intention of bundling up. The heat of the day’s zenith was too hot to handle sometimes and that was when she’d return to Niima Outpost. 

Fishing around in her bag, Greyer pulled a headlamp out and tightened the band around her head. Light would attract curious passersby, but she needed to see the vaporators readings, even at the cost of signaling her position to anyone nearby.

Five flickers of light later, Greyer knew that vaporator-four was leaking and vaporator-three needed a new hose to transfer water from the above-ground collector to the below-ground storage tank and all storage tanks had a frozen layer preventing collection. Like always, she’d have to wait to collect them. She hadn’t solved the heating problem yet.

With her morning chores done, Greyer used a broken antenna to draw a simple meditation circle in the sand and knelt down inside it.

“Breath and find your center,” the former Padawan muttered to herself as she focused.

Greyer let her mind go blank and the thoughts of spare parts or adhesive tape workarounds slipped from her consciousness. The Force flowed through her and around her and made her aware of Jakku’s desert life forms.

She felt the steelpeckers sleeping in their nests on the ridges above. She felt the terror of a skittermouse as it fled from a predator. She felt a swarm of gnaw-jaws burrowing deeper into the earth beneath her feet.

She could feel all things and, for a moment, she was all things. This was the neutrality that Greyer craved, where prey balanced predator and predator balanced prey. There was a balance in nature.

From time to time, Greyer wondered if it was sentience that brought imbalance to the Force, or was it the nature of things to become imbalanced, only to be brought back to that balance? She wasn’t sure, and her discussions with Master Luke, among others, from when she was a Padawan brought her no closer to a conclusion.

The Force flowed through her and all the little creatures around her and brought her mind to sentient beings nearby.

At first pass, Greyer mistook them a group of Teedos, up to their strange ways. Whoever they were, their purpose was singular and they focused on it.

But as Greyer’s meandering meditation continued, she sensed the uniqueness of the group. Two Kyuzo, two Melitto, and a handful of humans were headed somewhere with intentions of predators.

It would be an understatement to say this wasn’t the first time that Greyer sensed a gang going somewhere with ill intentions. For all the New Republic had done to pacify the turmoil of the galaxy, some places couldn’t be reigned in. Jakku was one of those places.

But as she brought her mind to bare, Greyer sensed a first.

The gang was headed for her. They’d be there soon. 

Greyer couldn’t sense their specific intentions, but they’d brought blasters to what could have been a tea party, so Greyer wasn’t holding out hope.

“ _Hmm…_ ” Greyer thought for a moment as her consciousness filtered back into her own form. “ _I guess the day has come._ ”

She’d always known that she’d have to defend her claim and the vaporators in it. Water was far too valuable of a resource on Jakku to be something conflict-free. If now was that time, then so be it.

She breathed deeply and returned to her meditation, this time to prepare for the coming conflict. It wasn’t what Greyer wanted, but it wasn’t her choice to make.

The gang moved quickly through the badlands towards her location. They had to be on well-kept speeder bikes because Greyer felt them fast approaching.

Without looking, Greyer reached into her satchel of odds and ends for a cylindrical metal tube. The familiar cold durasteel seemed to hum at her touch. Her fingers wrapped around it and gripped worn leather wrappings. 

Carefully, Greyer removed it and put the bag off the side. She placed the cylinder in her lap and waited for the gang.

It wasn’t long before echoes of the speeder bikes revving, and hollering and laughter reached Greyer’s ears.

“ _They’re at the TIE fighter._ ” Greyer inhaled sharply, feeling the anger and malice flowing off the gang. Without a doubt, they’d come to murder Greyer.

Greyer released the breath she’d been holding, and focused on the Force. She let the Force flowed through her, and let her thoughts and emotions flow in and out of her immediate consciousness. She let her mind become like the Force around her, attempting to mask whatever she was about to do. Greyer didn’t want any prying eyes sensing her use the Force.

In another minute, the gang of people was upon her and her vaporators.

Lights lit up the canyonlands and echoes reverberated off the walls as the speeder bikes surrounded her.

“What’s she doin'?” someone slurred in Galactic Basic.

“I dunno,” said another with a clear off-world accent. “Looks like she’s sleeping, but on her knees.”

Another spoke, but in an alien language that Greyer knew very little of. But she recognized one-word “shoot.” She didn’t like that word.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were _you_.” Greyer opened her eyes and took stock of her situation. The Kyuzos, the Melittos, and five humans were still sitting on their speeder bikes waiting for one of them to start something.

“ _One, two, five, nine blasters,_ ” she counted in her head. “ _Can I take nine blasters?_ ”

Greyer rolled her shoulders as she stood, the durasteel cylinder tightly gripped in her right hand.

“There doesn’t have to be any trouble here this morning, _boys_ ,” Greyer said slowly. “You must have gotten up _early_ if you wanted to meet me here, going home now means you’ll get _more_ sleep.”

She waved her left hand slightly. 

It was simple enough to enhance the power of suggestion, but they weren’t taking the suggestion - even if she could sense weak will among them. Group mentality and collective purpose made up for anyone’s weak will. But you couldn’t say that she didn’t try.

“A moisture farmer’s day _isn’t_ for the faint of heart,” Greyer said with another wave. It still didn’t work, but she felt the need to state the obvious.

“Yeah, and how tough could a _moisture farmer_ be?” one of the human men questioned with a sneer. He dismounted his bike with a smooth saunter and a blaster pointed right at her.

“I suppose you think you’re the one in charge, _then_.”

Greyer eyed him up. Best guess, he was a Jakku local since he was shorter than her and thinner than her. He wore a dark tunic and dark wrappings obscured his face and hands - she couldn't quite tell where he was looking. He was trying to make her nervous, and she wasn’t going to let him.

“Someone like _you_ could say that.” Greyer heard one of Kyuzo snickers. “But, that ain’t your _problem_ for long.”

“What do you _want_?” Greyer let a growl into her voice. The suggestion didn’t work, maybe intimidation would. If only Greyer was good at that in a compromised position.

He swaggered towards her overconfidently. His blaster aimed squarely at her chest.

“You got a nice thing going on here, Off-Worlder,” he said, steadily approaching her. “Wouldn’t want someone to mess that up now, would you?”

“If you thinking that you’re threatening me, you’ll have to try harder. _Storm Troopers_ are more threatening than you.”

Greyer clipped the cylinder to her belt. The scoundrel was close enough to punch, and she’d prefer that to the alternative.

He poked the blaster into her chest with his finger on the trigger.

“Listen carefully, _Off-Worlder_ ,” he growled. She could finally see his eyes, they were full of fury. “The Zeni gang will protect you for a cut of your stuff, _or_ we can kill you, your choice.”

Greyer scanned the crowd again. They’d dismounted their speeders with their hands hovering over their blasters, ready for action.

“I don’t need your protection, or anyone else’s for that matter,” Greyer said, bracing for a fight. “So, leave my claim and go back to bed.”

“Bad choice, _Off-Worlder_.”

Greyer felt irritation exude from her attackers as they reached for their blasters. The man in front of her was seconds away from pulling the blaster’s trigger.

Before Greyer anything else, she knew that she had to deal with the blaster digging into her chest. 

She grabbed the man’s wrist, digging her fingernails into whatever skin she could, and twisted it, hard. 

The man screamed in pain and was forced to drop his blaster. Greyer immediately let go of his wrist and kicked him away as hard as she could. 

He fell squarely on his butt, and out of Greyer’s range. Without his blaster, he wasn’t too much of an issue for Greyer at the moment.

She turned her attention towards the others. A few had blasters out of their holsters, but others were fumbling.

“In-out,” Greyer muttered aloud, syncing her breathing. She cleared her headspace of wayward thoughts and then reached out and the Force answered - ready to help.

The blasters needed to go. Greyer reached through the Force and yanked the blasters away from their owners.

“If you want a fight, let’s keep it fair, _shall we_?” Greyer said. She Force-pulled their blasters farther out of reach.

The Kyuzos said something to each other in the language that she didn’t understand, but their surface emotions told her all she needed to know - they were pissed and frightened. The two of them charged forward, ready to fight. The others joined in behind them.

Greyer closed her eyes and focused. Barely above a whisper, she muttered, “The Force is all things, and I am the Force.”

Outnumbered, Greyer went on the defensive, dodging blows at the last possible moment while forcing the other combatants to collide with themselves. She sensed their movements seconds before they started, and she listened to the Force for the right moments to strike.

“ _ **Now!**_ ”

Greyer caught one of the smaller humans by the arm, punched them in the stomach, and followed it up quickly with a kick to the groin.

The smaller human groaned as they limped away towards their speeder bike. They called to one of their friends, “C’mon Wex, let’s get out of here. Get over here, or I’m leaving ya!”

He must have been the drunk one because she’d already punched him two or three times and he seemed out of it. The drunken gang member bolted for the bike and the two retreated.

There were seven left now, and they weren’t leaving just yet.

She ducked under a punch and leaped towards one of her vaporators. 

Quick as she could, she turned around with her back against vaporator-three. 

Six of the gang members closen in on her, while the seventh - the one who’d had his blaster in her chest - was still on the ground, holding his wrist.

“The Force is all things and I am the Force. Flowing through all, there is balance,” Greyer muttered and focused again. She pushed herself off the vaporator for more momentum and rushed towards one of the remaining humans.

Ducking under a punch, she moved around him to kick the back of his knee followed by a jab to his ribs. He yelped in pain and clutched his side. Greyer hoped he’d be out of the fight.

“Yah-ow!” Greyer yelped, falling to the ground.

One of the Melittos tackled her and began grappling with her. She rolled on the ground, trying to gain the upper hand and keep its hands away from her throat.

The Melitto, however, outweighed her. So, when their momentum slowed down, the Melitto wound up on top of her. It grabbed at her throat, but Greyer didn’t give it the chance.

She called upon the Force, felt it coalesce around her hand, ready for release. With as little power as possible, Greyer pushed the Melitto off of her with the Force. By her estimation, it wasn’t much worse than a kick, but it sent the Melitto flying.

Free of the excess weight, she pushed herself to her feet, breathing heavily.

“You can leave anytime that you want,” Greyer gasped through ragged breaths. She didn’t want to fight any more than she had to, but she wouldn’t give up the vaporators without a fight.

Someone said something in the unknown language. Greyer sensed their aggravation ebb into weariness, almost on the cusp of defeat. The Melittos gave into that feeling and retreated to their respective speeders. They were waiting for a few more of the friends to join them.

Fury flared behind her, and Greyer spun around to block a Kyuzo’s lanky punch. She wasn’t quite ready to catch it. But with a calming breath, Greyer opened her fist and let the Force take the impact and block it for her.

Greyer exhaled and Force-pushed the offending Kyuzo away from her.

Another flash of emotions signaled an oncoming assailant. One of the remaining humans grabbed a rock, about to slam it into Greyer’s back.

With the grace that only a Jedi trained fighter possessed, Greyer sidestepped and brought a swift kick to bare against the man’s leg. It only helped the man stumble head over heels along the rocky ground, probably earning him a few gashes all over his body - Jakku fashion didn’t offer much protection against rockier parts of the planet.

That seemed to wisen up the two Melitto and a Kyuzo, and they left.

“You’re down five and haven’t done too much,” Greyer said, collecting herself and breathing deeply. “You don’t have to do this.”

The two remaining humans and one Kyuzo were stubborn. Greyer sensed her words harden their resolve.

“You won’t get away with this, _Off-Worlder_ ,” one of the humans growled furiously.

Greyer spun on heels to face him. It was the one claiming to be the leader. He wasn’t nursing his wrist anymore, he’d grabbed a blaster.

Greyer swore, “Kriff!”

He squeezed the trigger, releasing a laser bolt.

Greyer reflexively reached for the durasteel cylinder at her hip. She flipped the ignition switch and a blue blade lit up the shadows. Years of practiced ease brought the blade up to block the blaster bolt and reflect it away from her.

She’d wanted to avoid this. She didn’t want to bring her lightsaber into battle. But she wanted to die of a blaster bolt even less.

For the briefest moment, Greyer saw awe on the faces of the Zeni gang, but it gave way fast to anger and fear. They’d probably only heard of lightsabers in tall tales told in cantinas. Now, they were dealing with one in real life, they didn’t know what to do.

They went for their blasters like their leader, and their leader started firing in a blind panic.

“In-out.” 

Greyer only had a second to spare. She used those seconds to center her mind before parrying with her lightsaber.

Her blue blade danced all around her, blocking and bouncing red bolts back. Greyer let herself flow with the motions, and gave herself to the Force surrounding her.

Greyer didn’t even have to think as she reflected one bolt back at one gang member and sent it towards another. She blocked another and sent it back towards the shooter. The last gang member was desperate and charged Greyer. She had no choice, but to stab the human in his chest.

Greyer breathed heavily as she disengaged her lightsaber and returned it to her belt. “May the sands take you as you become one with the Force.”

>   
>  **Entry # 5**

Greyer had been a Padawan, once upon a time. It felt like a lifetime ago as she sat down to meditate, waiting for Jakku’s sun to rise.

Some said that she was lucky to have survived. Other survivors, the handful who had, said it was the will of the Force.

Greyer had always been lucky and she was extremely Force-sensitive (contrary concentration issues.) Luck and the Force go hand-in-hand, in her opinion. To her, luck was just misidentified Force use.

Most lucky idiots didn’t even realize that they were using the Force, and never thought twice about it after they were done. It was so instinctual for them that they couldn’t tell when they were using it.

But Greyer had always been aware of it. She even remembered accidentally using it when her godfather taught her a basic gambling game. That had been fun. She’d won the pot of chocolate candies they’d used in place of money. Her father had been proud of her victory, but her mother was far less than amused.

It’d been that gambling game that won her a ticket straight to the New Jedi Temple. Her mother decided that the best place for her to practice her budding Force power was the temple, far away from the dinner table.

She saw her mother, her father, and her brother frequently during her formal training, but she’d been set on a path of hard work. She’d even earned her nickname there when she’d figured out how to camouflage herself in the Force during many hide-and-seek games.

But her training and apprenticeship felt like a lifetime ago. The training, the Temple, the Resistance, the spying, and the adventures were close to two long years removed from her. That’s how long she’d been on Jakku, living in Niima Outpost, yet she still didn’t understand her purpose there.

The only thing that her daily meditation yielded was, “ _ **Listen! Wait!**_ ”

That was her only command, but she’d grown tired of it within the first month. Greyer desperately hoped that the Force wanted her there for more than an object lesson ... 

“This is hard,” Greyer groaned, leaning back into the sands from her sitting position. “I know I’m not going to get an answer, but why am I here? Of all the places in the galaxy, I’m here, _why_? I could be dealing with the Ren or the First Order, or undercover spying on them for the Resistance, but I’m here.”

Greyer stared up at the clear blue sky. She didn’t particularly care if she got an answer, all she wanted to do what get it off her chest.

Jakku’s sun just started to rise above the ridge her vaporators sat behind, and her work would begin in earnest soon. 

The number of working ones had grown to eight now, all of them in a neat row. She’d been working hard to maintain the first few she’d built, but they were worse for wear. She’d probably have to scrap vaporator-one and vaporator-two soon and salvage what parts she could to make replacements.

Not all of the two vaporators would be salvageable, though. Vaporator-one, two, and four still had scars from the fight with the Veni gang a year or so back. She was lucky or blessed - one of the two - that those idiots and their blasters hadn’t busted her collection tanks. Still, there’d been parts that she couldn’t repair and needed replacements for.

She’d taken what she could from the speeders the dead left behind, but it hadn’t quite been enough. Greyer’d ditched what she hadn’t taken from the speeders as far away from her vaporators and hidden the bodies in the shifting sands, hoping they wouldn’t be discovered for some time.

Not that anyone particularly cared what happened to those three. No one came looking for them, and Constable Zuvio didn’t mention anything.

In fact, people in Niima Outpost started to give Greyer a wide berth now and showed her more respect. It seemed that the survivors spread the word that Greyer wasn’t an off-worlder to be messed with.

The locals happily paid for her water, but they didn’t talk to her much after the attack. They hadn’t said much to her to begin with, but they spoke even less now. Her conversations were transactional and never transcend into gossip or anything personal or interesting.

But there were always exceptions. Rey was one of them.

The scavenger girl was a quiet and reserved one, but Greyer enjoyed the company. They could talk ships for hours and then have still more to talk about. Rey would also find the parts that Greyer needed for her vaporators.

Greyer heaved a sigh as she pushed off the sand. Jakku’s sun had risen completely over the ridge in the time she’d spent thinking, and the shadows moved past her first two vaporators.

Soon enough, the frozen layer in number two would shrink enough for her to collect and number one was ready for collection.

She ran a hose from vaporator-one’s underground storage tanks and began the transfer. Her speeder’s transport tanks slowly filled with the valuable liquid.

“I miss swimming…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rayner here!
> 
> Thank you for reading this chapter, and any that may follow. This is my first work published on AO3, so feel free to give me pointers, tell me if my tags need updating, or if you wanna give me high fives - that's awesome!
> 
> I don't expect too much from this. I am really just writing this for myself and sharing it here in case it brings joy to others too. 
> 
> I hope that this'll be a smaller work in a larger story I've been daydreaming about. I also apologize in advance if I lose steam halfway and drop the ball somewhere.
> 
> Again thank you for reading,  
> ~Rayner out


	2. Entries: 6 - 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Greyer is that Rey hasn't been seen in a while, and shows exactly what she'll do for someone in need.

> ****
> 
> **Entry # 6**

**  
**

Pliers and screwdriver in hand, Greyer squared up the offending panel. Years of grime, dust and basic entropy took their toll on Greyer’s ship. This particular panel covered wiring that Greyer needed to get at. Conventional means hadn’t given her access, so unconventional it was.

She jimmied the screwdriver under the panel's lip, and gently applied force, but it didn’t budge. She used the plier to pinch the panel and raise it a little more, so her screwdriver could have more leverage.

“Don’t make me _hurt_ you,” Greyer growled at it as if the problematic panel had sentience. She huffed and applied her full weight to the screwdriver. Nothing. “You know I’m trying to help you, _right_?”

The panel made no discernible attempt to answer. It remained attached to the wall, unmoving.

“ _Fine_ ,” Greyer admitted defeat. “Have it _your_ way.”

She put her tools back in her belt and took a step back. She cleared her mind, raised her hand, and gently applied Force powers, wrapping her mind and will around the offender. 

The panel started to come loose slowly. Years of trapped sands trickled from the openings she’d created. A quiet _pop_ signaled that she’d pulled it off. It hung there, suspended above the floor by the Force. She summoned it to her open hand, and set it aside for later. 

It was a mundane use for something so powerful. Not to mention, a risk, but Greyer knew she was safe. There was no one besides her in the freighter. No one was around to see her use the Force here.

Layers and layers of sand were on the floor from when the panel was pulled free, and it looked like Greyer had even more to remove if she even hoped to work on the wiring.

“That explains why you were so stubborn. Poor thing has more sand than wiring.”

Greyer began to dust off her work area. It could easily take a few hours for her to clear all the built-up grime simply to work on the wiring, and for all she knew, it’d be even longer before she found her problem.

But grime, gunk, and sand didn’t bother Greyer any more. It hadn't for a while.

She’d spent what little free time she had over her two years on Jakku fixing this ship. The built-up grit in the systems wasn’t about to stop her. It’d slow progress down, sure, but that never stopped it.

Greyer was determined to have a flight-worthy ship sooner or later. It’d been too long since she’d been among the stars above.

Her already dirty rag became dirtier, collecting dust as best it could, but it wasn’t much good. She’d need years to clear Jakku’s sands from the internal workings of her ship.

Greyer nodded after a while. Satisfied with her cleaning, she felt ready to tackle the wiring issue.

It wouldn’t be easy. Removing the grime and dust hadn’t revealed her problem. All the wires looked to be intact. Nothing disconnected, nothing cut, nothing obviously problematic.

“I’ll have to turn off the power connectors, and test all of them, won't I?” Greyer muttered, starting to feel this was more time than it's worth.

Greyer pulled out a power reader, hoping that would divine out her problem. 

It didn’t.

Admitting defeat, Greyer reached for the connector and flipped it and waited.

She was looking for whichever wire was degraded, and the computer from talking to the hyperdrive. That was kind of important to becoming space-worthy.

“Let’s see,” Greyer hummed to herself, and so began her long task.

The power reader was useless without power circulating through the panel, so Greyer set it aside for the time being. A controlled battery and a wire with an attachment clamp served her better.

Attaching the battery to each individual wire was a slow process, but Greyer saw no other way around it. 

Greyer hummed a half-forgotten melody from years ago as she went through the wires one by one. There must have been a few hundred wires to go through and eliminate the good from the bad. A green marker held between her teeth would be the only way she could denote the ones she’d need to replace.

One wire after another passed through her fingers and was adequately marked, but a bad one hadn’t come up just yet. She was starting to wonder if she’d be forced to replace the whole thing. How was she supposed to find something like that around Niima Outpost?

Maybe Rey would find something that would work, but Greyer doubted it. She doubted that anything scrapped from Empire ships would work, even Rebel Alliance parts were dubious. Parts from downed X-Wings or Y-Wings would work in a pinch, but she didn’t want to be in a pinch if she could help it. Spacefaring could be a real bitch when things weren't done correctly.

Eventually, Greyer got in a flow. Attaching, testing, detaching and repeating the process over and over. Humming to herself as she went. It could have been minutes or hours before Greyer came out of her thoughtful, deep work.

Greyer sensed something. Her eyes narrowed and her shoulders tensed. She knew she wasn’t alone on hership.

She set the battery pack on the inside lip of the paneling and reached for her lightsaber on her belt. The durasteel casing was cool to the touch, the familiar feeling reassuring.

With quiet steps, Greyer moved through her ship. She sensed that the intruder hadn’t ventured farther in, but Greyer wasn’t about to greet them. She’d rather hide in her ship’s innards than deal with a thief or attacker.

If someone were looking around for anything more than a score, Greyer would rather be unseen. The smuggler’s hidden compartments could serve her well.

“ _Hey_?” the intruder called from somewhere near the back of her ship. “ _Off-Worlder_ , you in there?”

Greyer breathed a sigh of relief. She recognized that unpleasant voice.

“What do you _want_ , Plutt?” she demanded. She walked slowly towards the ship’s entrance and kept a hand on her lightsaber.

She’d distrusted Unkar Plutt since their first meeting. He’d made her pay out the wazoo for her ship and for any additional parts. Greyer also felt jealousy and contempt towards her whenever they spoke.

Greyer suspected that the Crolute would have happily gotten rid of her and taken over her moisture farm and take back her ship if he could. But fighting off the Veni gang proved she wasn’t to be messed with.

Labored breathing could be easily heard from Plutt as she approached. He was waiting for her. At least he was being somewhat polite.

“What do you _want_?” Greyer repeated. She kept a cold shoulder towards the junk boss, weakness wasn’t an option around Plutt.

“Have you seen Rey recently?” Plutt bellowed too loudly for Greyer’s comfort.

She shook her head. “No, I haven’t. Has something happened to her?”

“I dunno,” the junk boss bellowed. “Probably fell or something. It happens to junkers.”

Her hazel eyes narrowed. “Then why come to see _me_?”

That made Plutt hesitate. He shifted from one foot to another and looked anywhere on Jakku but Greyer. The junk boss finally settled on some star just above her.

“I dunno,” he finally responded. “Thought she might have come seen you, or _somethin’_.”

“I haven’t.”

“Well, if you do see, lemme know.”

With that, the Crolute walked off into Jakku’s evening.

Greyer watched him go with suspicion. Once he was out of sight, she moved her hand away from her lightsaber.

“ _What was that about?_ ” she thought, scanning the horizon towards Rey’s home.

Greyer thought for a moment, and it did not take long for her to become worried. While Greyer might see Rey two or three times a week, just like any other resident of Niima Outpost, Plutt should be seeing Rey far more than Greyer. But if _he_ hadn’t seen Rey in a while that concern Greyer.

“Hmm…”

One maternal instinctual decision later, Greyer closed up her ship and hopped on her speeder bike. She knew where Rey’s home was. She passed it daily on her way to the vaporators, but she’d never had a reason to visit until now.

The outline of an AT-AT on its side came into view, dark, against the clear night sky. There was no light to be seen from inside the husk of a former war machine. That shouldn’t have worried Greyer, but it did. No smart scavenger would have had lights on for long, and Rey was smart.

Greyer reached out and into the Force. She easily sensed the life force of everything around her. The spider-like gnaw-jaws and rodent scittermice passed around her speeder bike. 

But Greyer extended her senses reach as far as she could, consequences be damned. To her relief, she felt a human’s life force in the AT-AT’s husk.

“Good, good,” Greyer murmured and increased her speed. She was almost there.

Relief washed over Greyer as she pulled her speeder between the legs of Rey’s home.

“Rey?” Greyer called up. The presence Greyer sensed from inside felt like a contradiction. Rey was strong in the Force but physically weak. That worried Greyer more than anything else.

“Rey?” she called again. No response.

Greyer leaped from her speeder, pulled her flashlight to her open hand with the Force, and rushed to find the entrance. The shifting sands impeded her quick movements, and she almost slipped down a dune in her impatience.

“How the _kriff_ do you get in here, Rey?” the former Padawan swore, hurrying towards the head of the AT-AT and she found it. “Finally!”

It was a secondary entrance that finally let Greyer in. She knocked but got no answer because she didn’t wait for one.

Greyer all but crawled her way into the AT-AT’s husk and shone her flashlight around. She called out again, “Rey!”

A weak moan commanded Greyer’s attention. She wanted to reach for her lightsaber as she went, but decided against it. Igniting it in such a tight space was never a good idea.

“ _Rey,_ ” Greyer said once again.

“I’m here,” Rey responded weakly. Greyer’s light finally fell on a mass of rags and blankets full of holes. She spotted movement underneath within.

Crawling over uneven metal and hurried to Rey’s sleeping area. Greyer gently pulled blankets and rags and miscellaneous scraps of cloth off Rey’s form. She moved the flashlight to the crook of her neck and held it there, so she could use both hands to get to Rey.

When she’d pulled enough away to see Rey’s form, Greyer forced herself to take a deep breath. The younger girl was unmoving and her eyes barely opened despite Greyer’s light shining in her face. 

“It’s going to be alright, Rey,” she murmured. She raised the back of her hand to Rey’s forehead, and it confirmed her suspicions. “ _Kriff!_ You’re burning up, but I’ve got you.”

Greyer checked Rey’s pulse and breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t too weak yet.

“It’s going to be okay.”

Rey only moaned in response.

With a deep huff, Greyer pulled the younger onto her shoulders. Careful not to hurt Rey as she went, Greyer moved through the AT-AT back towards her speeder bike. She did, at least, turn off the flashlight. She was certain that light would only attract more attention than she already had.

> ****
> 
> **Entry # 7**
> 
> ****

****  


It’d been three days since Greyer brought Rey to her ship. Three days that she hadn’t slept or eaten or done any work at all. She’d stayed by Rey’s side, and kept a damp rag on the younger girl’s forehead, hoping for Rey’s fever to break.

But, Rey didn’t appear to be getting better.

Greyer thought the fever broke when Rey woke on the second day, long enough to eat whatever Greyer prepared. But wakefulness was deceiving. Rey’s eyes hardly tracked the spoon Greyer used to feed her, and she’d gone back to sleep as soon as she’d had her fill.

Day four dawned in the east, and Greyer knew she had to do something different. She replaced the damp rag on Rey’s forehead with a new one and tucked her in the ship’s bunk before quietly heading deeper into her ship.

When Greyer had come to Jakku, she hadn’t brought much with her. Though, she hadn’t owned much to begin with. Being trained as a Jedi Padawan and working for years as a Resistance reconnaissance officer didn’t bring in much money or personal possessions. It was unsurprising, then, that she hadn’t brought much with her.

What she had brought with her were essential supplies and what few personal possessions that could fit in a small bag.

The best supplies were used to buy her ship and those leftovers ran out long ago, but her personal effects were well hidden. There were plenty of secret spaces in her ship, and one of those smuggler’s compartments kept her treasures safe.

Mostly, she kept things that others wouldn’t value. Holo-pictures of her mother, father, brother, uncle, and godfather. A piece of her mother’s jewelry she’d like as a child. Even a hard copy of a sonogram Greyer preferred not to look at was hidden away there.

But as Greyer removed the false paneling that wasn’t what she was after. In amongst the strongbox of personal treasures were some actual treasures.

“ _Where’d I put that bag? _” She rummaged through her the strongbox, shifting through forged documents and false identities she also kept on hand. Just under those were her sentimental items, and in the corner under everything else was her prize. “ _There it is!_ ”__

Greyer pulled out a small pouch, weighed down by everything it contained. She opened the drawstring pouch and felt around.

A shiver ran through her hand and down her spine the moment her fingers touched the cold crystals within. A responsive hum reverberated through the Force. She pulled one of the small, pointed crystals out.

Between her fingers was a thin, elongated pure white crystal. Kyber. This was one of her treasures.

In all her strange adventures through the galaxy, she’d found several kyber crystals and collected them. Even if she felt no response from the crystals, Greyer took it with her, hoping to one day find someone the crystal might choose, someone who she could teach to use the Force.

But, kyber was valuable. 

Greyer didn’t like her prospects, but it was her best option. She didn’t like parting with it, but she’d do what she needed to do.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. 

Greyer put the single crystal in a pouch on her belt and returned her collection to the safety of the strongbox. She hid it away again behind the false paneling.

“Stay safe,” Greyer muttered, patting the panel.

A soft moaning summoned her back to the bunks. Rey had rolled over in her bunk. Greyer put a hand to the younger girl’s forehead, she was still burning up.

“It’s going to be okay, Rey,” Greyer whispered, patting Rey’s hand gently.

____

###### 

____

Greyer was the first one at Plutt’s stand, the Concession Stand as everyone but Plutt called it. She’d bet all of her kyber crystals and her lightsaber that Plutt would have medicine for a hefty ransom.

“What are you doing here, Off-Worlder?” Plutt barked. “I buy your water, what do you want from me?”

She returned his remarks with a cold stare, making him wait for her response.

“I have business with you,” the former Padawan finally said in her coldest tone. “Do you know what this is?”

She held the crystal aloft with the points of it between her index finger and thumb.

Plutt reacted instantly. His recognition was so powerful that Greyer didn’t need to clear her mind to sense it through the Force.

But the junk boss kept his thoughts from his features. Greed overpowered the sense of recognition, he wanted her crystal and he wanted it for the cheapest he could get it.

“It’s junk,” the junk boss said with a straight face. “ _One_ -quarter portion.”

He reached for the dehydrated food pack.

“I know what this is worth,” Greyer stated, graduating her gaze to a glare. “If you’re ignorant, then let me enlighten you.”

That made the junk boss hesitate.

“This is a kyber crystal. Pure. Uncut. Untainted. But if it’s really worth nothing to you, I’m sure I can find someone who knows what it’s worth.”

Greyer started to retract her hand to put it in her belt pouches. If Plutt wouldn’t have it, someone on Jakku would want it.

“Wait!” Plutt barked. It didn’t take a genius to see that Greyer wasn’t to be swindled out of her kyber. “I can offer you eighty portions.”

“Eighty portions is a helluva difference,” Greyer said slowly. She could still mess this negotiation up. “But I don’t want your portions. I’ll give you my kyber crystal for all the medicine you can give me.”

“Half!” the Crolute doomed.

Greyer maintained her glare, trying her best to make Plutt squirm. She sensed it working to some degree. The junk boss was very aware that he couldn’t intimidate her.

“Half of you best,” she said. Greyer stilled her thoughts and listened to the Force. She needed to know how honest the Crulute was being. Her kyber crystals would not be sold for fake or defective medicine.

Greed, frustration, anger, and general pettiness exuded from Plutt. Generally, decent people called it assholery, and Greyer agreed.

But, even assholes can be honest when forced to, and that was the position Plutt was in.

“Only the best.”

Plutt began putting dark glass bottles, bottles of pills, and other miscellaneous medical supplies on the counter. Even basic feminine products were placed there for her taking.

Greyer delicately her placed the kyber down and waited.

“There.” The supplies were pushed forward. Greyer slid the crystal to Plutt’s side of the Concession Stand.

She took her sweet time placing the medicine in her satchel. It wasn’t her goal to make Plutt squirm even longer. Greyer didn’t want to damage anything because she was hasty. It was just an added bonus that the junk boss didn’t like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rayner here!
> 
> If you've made it this far, that's awesome and thank you so much!
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed reading this far as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Also, I apologize in advance if I lose steam halfway through, and drop the ball somewhere. I don't plan on doing that, but I hate overpromising. 
> 
> Again, I'm new to AO3, so feel free to give me pointers, tell me if my tags need updating, or if you wanna give me a high five - that's awesome, too! 
> 
> Have fun and a very good day.
> 
> ~Rayner out


	3. Entries from Rey: 1 - 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey awakens from her illness and provides her insight into Greyer's life.

>   
>  **Entry from Rey # 1**

Rey felt the softest blanket she’d ever encountered rub against her skin as she rolled over. Through a sleepy haze, she recognized that this was not her own. The bed, the blanket, the pillow were not her own. She blinked and tried to sit up.

She ached all over, but from the quick glimpse around, Rey knew she wasn’t in the Hellhound. She was on a ship. Her heart beat faster, even as her head swam. Maybe, just maybe, they’d come back.

“Mom? Dad?” Rey called out. “Is anyone there?”

From somewhere deeper in the ship, Rey heard things scattering loudly and someone moving towards her. She tried to get up as she heard the person walking through the halls.

“Rey?” they called, and Rey’s stomach fell. She recognized the voice and the off-world accent. It was Greyer, the odd moisture farmer. “Rey? Oh, thank goodness you’re awake.”

The moisture farmer turned the corner, looking visibly relieved. It was easy to see that she was frazzled. 

The tan tunic and pants that most everyone on Jakku wore looked wrinkled and disheveled, as though Greyer hadn’t changed in a while. The tool belt that she normally had tightly cinched around her waist was lopsided and almost falling off as she rounded the corner.

Rey tried to get out of the ship’s bunk, but Greyer hurried over to stop her. “No need to get up, Rey. You need your rest. You’ve been really sick for several days.”

Greyer guided Rey back into the bunk with firm hands and pulled the blanket back over her.

“How-” Rey moaned. She felt her stomach roil from something akin to pain and hunger. “How long have I been here?”

The moisture farmer was hesitant to answer. “You’ve been asleep for almost five days. Something really bad hit you hard. You were probably out for longer. Plutt told me he hadn’t seen you in a while, and I hadn’t either, so I came to check on you and you were out cold - well, hot really.”

Greyer reached out and put the back of her hand to Rey’s forehead. “You’re fever’s broken, but don’t you even think about going out scavenging yet. You need your rest.”

Rey rested her head against the pillow and gave the moisture farmer a puzzled look. She’d never seen Greyer like this before. It was assertive, but not at the same time, it was softer.

Rey had seen the moisture farmer drive a hard bargain with Plutt and other junk bosses when they wanted water. Greyer was harsh but fair and unaccepting of anything that would cheat her out of the value of her water.

This wasn’t that kind of assertive. It was different.

“Stay here,” Greyer said. “I’ll get you some food.”

The moisture farmer disappeared down a ship’s hall. The ship creaked as she went and the sound of crashing objects followed her. It wasn’t long before the noise preceded Greyer’s return with food and water in hand.

It looked like Greyer was serving her three whole portions, as well as a few large pieces of jerked meat. Greyer set the small feast on Rey’s lap. The older woman refused to take no for an answer when Rey told her that this was too much for one person. Greyer then added, “And when you’re done with that, drink this.”

The moisture farmer poured a dark, rosy liquid into a shot glass and set it on a standing tray nearby. “It doesn’t smell good, and it’ll taste just as bad, but, trust me, it’ll make you feel better in the long run.”

Rey didn’t protest as she ate and drank the shot glass of whatever Greyer had poured for her. Greyer’d been right, it tasted even worse than it smelled.

>   
>  **Entry from Rey # 2**

It was another few days before Greyer let Rey out of bed.

Rey’s aches felt less achy after the first day of lying languidly in the bunk. She wanted to get up then, but Greyer insisted that she remain in the bunk unless she needed to use the lavatory or else something otherwise necessary.

Again, the moisture farmer wasn’t the same sort of assertive that business required, but so insistent that Rey didn’t question her yet.

By the second day, though, Rey had to ask: “Why are you doing this, Greyer? What do you want from me?”

Greyer looked confused. “I don’t want anything from you. You were sick. You still are for a little while longer. What else was I supposed to do?”

And that was the extent of Greyer’s answer. Every time that Rey asked again or reworded the question, Greyer would answer in a similar way. The moisture farmer found leaving Rey to her fever unthinkable like it was the most natural thing in the world for Greyer to nurse Rey back to health.

Rey ate Greyer’s food, drank Greyer’s water, ingested Greyer’s medicine, and stayed in Greyer’s ship, but Rey didn’t completely trust the moisture farmer. How could someone on Jakku do something for her and expect nothing back?

Greyer had to be hiding something. Rey always suspected that the moisture farmer had something in her past that she didn’t want to be found. Any off-worlder who came to Jakku and stayed must be hiding something. Why else would anyone stay on Jaku when they could leave?

You couldn’t completely trust someone who chose to stay on Jakku. Rey knew this. Unkar Plutt knew this. The locals in Niima Outpost knew this. Anyone whose homeworld was Jakku knew this. You might be able to trust an off-worlder to be a good person, but if they stay on Jakku, you can’t trust their past.

So, Rey accepted the moisture farmer’s aide but kept her distance from Greyer. The medicine Greyer provided her really was helping, and Greyer’s hospitality was a welcome relief to Rey’s day-to-day activities.

Her bed rest had to end, though. Greyer declared that Rey healthy after the fourth day of laying around and let her walk around the ship.

“Was this one that Plutt owned?” Rey asked, following Greyer around.

She wasn’t going out scavenging today, even though Greyer declared her healthy. It was already too late in the day to get anywhere worth foraging through, so she remained on Greyer’s ship.

Besides, Greyer would be able to drop her off at her AT-AT home extra early on the moisture farmer’s run to her vaporators. That meant that Rey got the chance to observe real ship maintenance as Greyer went about working.

“Yup,” Greyer said with a smile. “I got it from him a while back for … oh at least a hundred protein rations and the hyperdrive of the crappy star runner I got here in. I hope it was worth it for him.”

“You had a hundred protein rations?” Rey’s eyes went wide. “You have to be as rich as a Hutt to have a hundred protein rations at once.”

Greyer shrugged and her face turned a brighter shade of sunburnt red. “Yeah, I had that many at one point. It was a while ago. But you’d be the first I’d share some with if I had some.”

Against her better judgment, Rey blurted out, “Were you a smuggler or something? You’d have to be if you had that much food at once!”

The moisture farmer shook her head. “I wasn’t a smuggler. I mostly worked on ships before coming to Jakku, but I did a lot of other things on the side too. Not all of it was legal from some points of view.”

There was a grin on the moisture farmer’s face Rey might call roguish. Rey knew she was right, Greyer just admitted to hiding something but wasn’t about to explain it further.

Rey stared Greyer down with a questioning look. “Why’d you become a moisture farmer if you could be doing something like that?”

She wondered if she’d crossed a line when Greyer paused what she was doing, but didn’t answer. There was a long pause between when she set the tools she was using down and when she answered Rey, “I’m here because I need to be. There’s something that I need to do, I just don’t know what yet. Besides, I needed to take a step back from that life and do some reevaluating.”

Rey didn’t understand why anyone would come to Jakku for a reason like that, but she didn’t say so.

“What are you working on?” she asked instead.

Greyer looked up from her chaotic workspace. She was determinedly working through hundreds of wires, testing each individually. It looked like insanity from where Rey stood not far away.

“Somewhere in this mess, there’s a wire or two or three that’s keeping the computer from connecting with the hyperdrive and vice versa. I haven’t found it yet, but it’s in here somewhere,” Greyer muttered. She sounded frustrated, and Rey could see why. That was a lot to tackle.

“Have you checked if it’s the compressor?” Rey offered.

“Compressor? What compressor?” Greyer gave her a deeply confused look. 

“Plutt added a compressor, I told him not to. You haven’t noticed it?”

Greyer shook her head. “How’d he muscle that thing into this? And where?”

“It’s on the ignition line.” Rey stepped away from the wall she’d been resting against and started leading Greyer towards the ship’s cockpit. “I told him that he shouldn’t, but why would he listen to a scavenger?”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kriffing kidding me,” the moisture farmer swore. “That messes up the hyperdrive like no one’s business.”

“I know,” Rey agreed. “It puts too much stress on it.”

Rey watched as Greyer fidgeted with the cockpit’s computer interface where Plutt muscled the compressor in. After a while, Greyer just sighed in defeat and sank into the captain’s chair. “That’s going to take forever to remove… and I don’t think that’s my electrical problem. Damnit. Thank you for telling me about it, Rey.”

“You’re welcome.”

>   
>  **Entry from Rey # 3**

Rey woke early when Greyer gently shook her shoulders. A moisture farmer’s day started even earlier than a scavenger’s.

The ride to the Hellhound was a quick one. Greyer stuck around long enough to make sure unwelcome squatters hadn’t taken up residence while Rey was sick. The off-worlder only left for her vaporators when Rey assured her that nothing of hers was messed with.

Aside from a thick layer of dust, Rey’s home was relatively untouched. Everything was the way she remembered it being before she passed almost over a week ago now.

Rey looked over her own burnt orange speeder. Everything was as it ought to be. 

Once Rey gathered her gear, she revved up the engine and took off for a downed Imperial ship. The Interrogator Rey thought it was called.

The Interrogator had been half-buried in Jakku’s sands long before Rey was born and would remain there long after Rey was dead. Most of the ship’s lower and ground levels were picked clean of any valuable loot, so Rey had a climb to look forward to.

Her speeder made quick headway through the Goazon Badlands. Normally, she’d have left at sunrise for the Interrogator. It was an hour’s ride from Niima Outpost, so she’d always needed to rise early and head out.

With a moisture farmer’s early start, Rey arrived at the Interrogator’s corpse as Jakku’s sun ascended into the sky. It would be a long day for Rey.

She left her speeder at the bottom of a dune and made the slow trek up the sandy surface to the ship’s engine exhaust. The engines were dead, they had been for over a decade, and it made for the perfect entrance into the ship’s skeleton.

Once inside the wreckage, Rey pulled her wrappings tighter around her lithe form and tied her hat with its lamp over her head. Jakku might heat up to ungodly temperatures, but the insides of ships’ corpses were cold.

They’d heat up by the end of the day, but it took hours and hours before it started to retain the sun’s heat.

Any scavenger worth their salvage knew to dress warmly when going into wreckage, and Rey was a scavenger worth her salvage.

Rey’s footsteps echoed thunderously, giving away her every movement, as she walked through the engine’s exhaust. The cavernous darkness of the Interrogator’s engine exhaust only added to the unwelcoming atmosphere that clung to the wreckage.

It almost felt like trespassing, but Rey had adjusted to ignoring that feeling long ago. If the Empire didn’t want anyone going through their stuff, they shouldn’t have left it on Jakku.

Overhead, long cables hung down from the abyss above like tentacles of some unknown monster waiting for its prey.

It was these cables that Rey walked to as quietly as she could. They were the only way up. The only way to access the most valuable parts of the ship. Too bad climbing up them was questionable at best, deadly on a much more regular basis.

Rey sometimes wondered if she should be more shocked when she found another scavenger’s body lying next to a long length of unattached cable. It didn’t seem normal. Rey thought that this should bother her more, but it didn’t. That was the harsh reality for a scavenger on Jakku.

She gave a cable a questioning tug. It rattled upwards into the unknown but didn’t come tumbling down or send debris falling down or even make a sound funny.

The cable seemed trustworthy, but Rey didn’t trust it. She moved on to another and tested it. It seemed more questionable, but she decided that she liked it better and began climbing.

It was a long way up, but even when her arms and legs began to ache, she kept going.

“ _I wonder if I can get to the bridge from here,_ ” Rey thought once she’d reached the upper levels. She’d been lucky enough to find her way up to a deck hallway. If she were careful not to get lost, she could wander the ship’s decks, looking for valuable parts.

It would be a payday of a lifetime if she could get to the bridge. Even if Plutt couldn’t use all the parts for resale, he would pay well for the top of the line stuff sure to be found there. 

Rey took a spool of thin wire from her utility belt and anchored it to an exposed lug nut. With her way back secured, Rey began her wandering.

Parts and salvage were readily available for the taking and Rey knew it would be a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rayner here
> 
> If you've read this far, thank you so much. I hope you've enjoyed it. 
> 
> I'm new to AO3 so feel free to let me know if I should add tags, switch up things, or if you want to, feel free to give me a high-five with a comment or something.
> 
> I hope to keep writing this and finish writing a fic for once, but I want to say sorry in advance if I drop the ball somewhere farther down the road.
> 
> ~Rayer out


	4. Entries: 8 - 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Greyer ponders what she is waiting for, practices her lightsaber technique with the help of a mysterious voice, and agrees to help one of the Sacred Villages on the other side of Kelvin Ridge.

>   
>  **Entry # 8**

Time passes slowly when you’re waiting for something, and Greyer knew this all too well by that point in her life.

She’d waited for many things in life. 

When she was young, she’d waited to be old enough, to be grown-up - Greyer wouldn’t recommend it. During her formative Jedi training, she’d waited impatiently to make her very own lightsaber - that’d been worth it. In her teens, she’d waited to be in love. As a young adult, just barely eligible for Resistance reconnaissance missions, she’d learn patience when waiting for assignments. Working undercover and living as a technician in the First Order, Greyer kept her head down and waited to find useful information.

Now, Greyer waited for something on Jakku, but she didn’t know what. Normally, she knew what she was looking for or looking forward to.

Meditation revealed nothing that she didn’t already know. The Force wanted her here and so she’d stayed on Jakku.

Moisture farming kept her alive and repairing her ship kept her busy, but Greyer sensed that she was missing something.

Something important.

Something obvious.

Something a real Jedi wouldn’t have missed.

But Greyer wasn’t a real Jedi. She was just a Padawan without a master, so a Padawan she would remain.

Greyer put her thoughts to this mystery as she watched Jakku’s sun disappeared beyond the horizon. Nothing was coming to mind. At least it was a beautiful sunset.

Listen and wait was the command, but nothing was happening or had happened. Therefore it was going to happen, and Greyer needed to be here when it did. She also knew that she couldn’t make it happen. That wasn’t the way these things worked.

Unless it was. Greyer didn’t know if she was the catalyst for whatever she was waiting for. She didn’t think she was. It should have happened already if that were the case. But who was she to say at this point?

Greyer let out a sigh as she stood from the captain’s chair and walked away from the cockpit. The electrical panel was still taking up much of her time, and she couldn't start dealing with the compressor until she’d got the computer talking to the hyperdrive.

At least her ship made sense when the Force didn’t. That much was comforting.

>   
>  **Entry # 9**

“ _I need to more room in my speeder’s tanks,_ ” Greyer decided. By her best estimates, a month had passed since Rey had been healthy enough to return home, and she was still hauling water stored in the auxiliary cisterns.

The water from the cisterns didn’t taste the best. Greyer knew what she was talking about when she said the water tasted bad, she’d dedicated the last two, almost three years of her life to the important liquid - Greyer knew her stuff.

But even stale water was better than no water at all, so Greyer began the slow process of mixing the stale reserved water with more recently collected liquid. It wouldn’t be her best product, but water was water on Jakku.

So, when her scrapped-together speeder’s water tanks were a quarter of the way full, Greyer turned off the reservoir’s valve and moved her hose to vaporator-three. 

Vaporators one and two were under renovations, the wear and tear of time finally got to them while she’d been away caring for Rey.

Vaporator-one had burst hoses due to freezing and an internal clock error. It looked like simple repairs would bring it back online, and Greyer would have done just that if it weren’t for the state of vaporator-two.

Her second vaporator looked fine, at first. The basic computer readings claimed to be working properly and the external hoses were in perfect condition. But when Greyer connected a transfer hose to the underground storage tanks, nothing came up.

It’d taken her a couple of days of letting vaporator-two run and keeping a close eye on it to surmise that everything she could see was working properly. It was what she couldn’t see that was the issue.

Something must have gone wrong with either the below ground tank or the insulated hose she connected with when making the transfer.

The damp ground around vaporator-two only further supported her theory.

So, all things considered, Greyer switched off the two machines and decided they were about due for an overhaul.

It’d mean time and patience in both planning her major repairs and purchasing the required parts. She didn’t want to know how much water Plutt would make her pay for parts now that he knew she’d own a kyber crystal. He’d probably try to bleed her dry now that he knew she might still have valuable possessions. He wouldn’t get any more kyber out of her if she could help it, but Force knew, he would try.

But, what had to be done, had to be done, and Greyer had to do it.

Greyer secured the transfer hose to vaporator-three and double-checked for leaks before beginning the transfer. Once started, the process would go on without her interference for hours. The vaporators only needed her help when switching the hoses between the machines, so Greyer stepped away.

She leaned against vaporator-three and closed her eyes and focused. It was easy enough to sense the Force in all the life forms all around her, and that gave her all the information she wanted to know. Greyer was far, far away from any other sentient beings.

That was the way she liked it.

Greyer shed her moth-eaten vest and sand scarf and set them on the seat of her speeder. She didn’t want anything getting in her way.

She stepped about twenty paces away from the vaporators and speeders and stood there in a solid, even stance. 

“In- _out,_ ” Greyer uttered. She closed her eyes again. Her breathing came under control. Each breath was controlled, calm, and deep.

These breathing exercises were just the beginning of her exercise, and to Greyer, this was the most important part. This was the calm before the storm for her. She needed this time to bring her mind and breathe into balance.

A deep sense of calm settled into her bones after several minutes of simple breathing. Greyer knew this was the time to begin practice in earnest.

Greyer reached for her lightsaber. The durasteel casing was cool to the touch, and the familiar stripes of leather she’d wrapped around it years ago were worn and comforting. She gripped it tightly and brought it up into her stance, completing the basic Jedi fighting stance.

She took one more deep breath, opened her eyes, and pressed the ignition switch. The bright blue blade grew from the hilt, ready for Greyer’s next move, ready for battle.

“In-out, back and forth,” Greyer murmured. “Flowing through all things, there is balance.”

Greyer timed each inhale and exhale with a strike and block. She flowed serenely through the basic forms, each inhale and exhale synchronized with a particular swing and motion. 

It felt comforting to move through these exercises once again, almost as though she were ten years old again training with the Jedi’s ancient weapon back in the Jedi Temple. But that was a long time ago, and she was without a master.

Her breathing quickened as she moved from basic forms to more complicated techniques.

Greyer’s blade moved in a cerulean blur around her in a deadly display. It would have been enough to win any sparring match, but Greyer didn’t know if it’d be enough to keep her alive in an actual saber dual. It’d been a long time since Greyer faced another lightsaber wielder.

The blue blade danced around her as she fought an imaginary opponent, but she was coming to the end of her knowledge. 

She often wished she knew more. Her training at the Temple covered understanding the Force, because of her unique giftings of disguising herself in the Force, and not in combat. She regretted it now, so she practiced what she knew.

As Greyer reached the extent of her knowledge and the end of her self-prescribe exercises, she sensed something. As quiet as a whisper, a voice unknown to Greyer reached out through the Force, “ ** _Straighten your posture, widen your stance, and strike._** ”

With a deep breath, her spine went as straight as it would go, widened her stance, and struck.

“ ** _Again,_** ” the voice instructed her through the Force.

“ ** _Again._** ”

On and on her instruction went. 

The voice repeated the same set of orders for a little while before telling her to do something new. It was as though someone was drilling her in lightsaber combat, but Greyer didn’t know who. They were certainly more strict than Master Luke.

Her instructor transitioned from repeating the same strike or block to putting them together in one motion. Greyer flowed with the drills and motions, letting whatever presences give her a grueling lightsaber lesson.

Sweat dripped down her face as she went through the motions. In the back of her mind, Greyer registered a dull ache coming from her muscles, but her synchronized breathing and focus kept it from her forethoughts. The foreign exercises were starting to get to her, but so long as she heard her instructor, Greyer wanted to keep going.

“ ** _And strike,_** ” her mysterious instructor said. Greyer’s body strained against her, and she recognized it even through her focus. “ ** _Good. Good. You are on your way, young Padawan. Rest for now, and continue learning._** ”

Greyer disengaged her lightsaber blade and looked around. There was no one, not even a specter of a Force ghost that Master Luke had described.

But her muscles ached and her breathing was labored. It had been real, that much Greyer knew.

“I _need_ a drink.”

>   
>  **Entry # 10**

Greyer wiped her brow as she wheeled her speeder bike through Niima Outpost. This was her second round trip from Niima to her vaporators.

The first was to replenish her sale reservoir, and the second was to refill the happabore trough.

Both were time-consuming, but Greyer constantly needed to refill those troughs. The giant, lumbering beasts drained whole tanks in one sitting, so they constantly needed refilling.

If there was one thing that Greyer disliked about being a moisture farmer, it was this. Refilling the happabore troughs was more work than it was worth and each trough needed a whole vaporator-tank of water to fill.

In fewer words, it took a whole lot of water. At least the happabore handlers paid well enough.

Greyer uncoiled her hose from its spot on her speeder and began to drain the tanks. They were full of stale cistern water. This was probably the best use for all those liters of water. Happabores weren’t picky about their water, and wouldn’t complain to Greyer if they were.

She monitored the hose for any blockages as she made the transfer. She didn’t expect any, but as always, she was on the lookout.

It was unlikely that mold would grow in her tanks, but it was still one of Greyer’s concerns.

One of her evening chores was cleaning her speeder bike’s tanks. Sand was notorious for getting everywhere and it was the leading cause of blockages in her piping. Mold, as hard as it was to grow on Jakku, could still endanger her water supply, and she needed to ensure that growths didn’t develop in her tanks.

“Excuse me,” someone said, interrupting her concentration. “Are you Greyer, miss?”

Greyer looked up from her hose. An older man with gray hair and a beard, dressed in handmade clothes stood in front of her. He was shielding his eyes with his hand.

“Depends on who’s looking for her,” she answered. She felt the need to be evasive. Even though she’d been on Jakku long enough that answering directly shouldn’t be an issue, old habits die hard. “But, yes, I’m Greyer. What can I help you with?”

The old man studied her face intently and took a long moment to answer. “Sorry, you _look_ familiar. I am Lor San Tekka. I’ve come from the Sacred Village of the Force.”

Greyer raised an eyebrow. The old man had her attention.

She’d known about the Sacred Villages and their bizarre beliefs for a while. Rey taught her about some of the odder religions that’d popped up on the other side of Kelvin Ravine. The beliefs ranged from venerating the Hutts as gods to worshipping the Force and living by old Jedi codes without being Force-sensitive.

Most wrote all worshippers from any village off as crazy, and Greyer did too, except for one. That one was the village San Tekka came from.

She was Force-sensitive, first of all, and a former Padawan-learner, second. Disregarding the Force would be like ignoring a part of her very being. So, Greyer couldn’t turn a blind eye to the beliefs of San Tekka’s village.

While she couldn’t ignore it, she did avoid it. Greyer made sure to avoid the Sacred Villages, and since the Villages wanted little to do with anyone else, it’d worked will. That is until now.

“Well, you’ve come a long way then,” Greyer said, attempting to sound casual. 

Lor San Tekka nodded. “Yes, I traveled the Pilgrim’s Road on urgent business. My village’s cisterns have broken and the repairs will take some time. This means our water supplies are dangerously low, and we’d be grateful for your services, Miss Greyer.”

As subtle as she could, Greyer released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She’d been careful to hide her identity as a Jedi, but Greyer could never be too careful.

She’d been expecting San Tekka to ask her something different. Greyer wasn’t sure what he’d have asked her about, but she didn’t think it’d have anything to do with moisture farming.

“I see.” Greyer tugged at her loose, messy bun. “You want me to supply you with water until your repairs are finished.”

“That is the case. We have our own vaporators, but with the cisterns broken, containing the water has been rather difficult.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Greyer’s tanks had emptied and she began coiling the hose.

“We’ll pay you, of course,” San Tekka said.

“I never thought you couldn’t,” she answered. “I’ll come out your way after my collection tomorrow. Chances are I won’t be able to come every day, but I can bring water that’ll help tide you over. We can make a better plan from there.”

The older man nodded. “Thank you, Greyer. Thank you. May the Force be with you.”

Greyer froze upon hearing his goodbye. It’d been too long since she’d heard that phrase.

In the past, she would have answered in kind, but now she waited for Lor San Tekka to walk away before she muttered, “And with you, always.”

>   
>  **Entry # 11**

Rey once told her that the Pilgrim's Road wasn't much more than a happabore trail, and Greyer was inclined to agree. There wasn’t much delineation between the road and the Goazon Badlands surrounding it.

She knew that the Sinking Fields needed to be off on her right and Kelvin Ravine had to be somewhere in front of her, but Greyer found it difficult to stay on the road. Every so often, spires with tattered flags rose up from the sands to signal the way for any dedicated pilgrims. There were even a few delicately stacked cairns dotted the sides of the trail.

But any markers came at irregular intervals and the goggles she wore collected a layer of fine dust her speeder kicked up making it difficult to spot.

All said Greyer was having a misadventure simply finding Lor San Tekka's Sacred Village.

Luckily, she had a hunch that she'd know which village belonged to the Church of the Force. Greyer was a Jedi, more or less, so she had some shared beliefs with the Church of the Force. At the very least, she theorized that she'd recognize some of the iconography, if the villagers used any.

The gash in the landscape that was Kelvin Ravine quickly grew ahead of her as she got closer and closer. Even if she was off the road, all she needed to do was cross the ravine and she'd surely find the Sacred Village. If not the one she was looking for, Greyer would find one that could point her in the right direction.

Greyer hadn't been out this far before. Even when wanderlust and an adventurous spirit took hold of her mood, Greyer was sure to keep away from the Sacred Villages.

When she'd heard through cantina talk and Rey that one of the villages housed followers of the Church of the Force, she’d made sure to avoid the area and anyone who might be a follower of said beliefs.

She’d done her best to remain anonymous while living on Jakku. But, if anyone could see Greyer for what she really was, a potential Jedi, it would be someone from the Church of the Force.

It was easy enough to avoid their members since most inhabitants of any Sacred Villages kept to themselves and away from everyone else.

But now, Greyer couldn’t avoid it. 

She could have said no, but it wasn’t right to turn down Lor San Tekka’s request for help. So, she willingly went to the one place on Jakku she should avoid.

“ _Just breath, in-out,_ ” Greyer reminded herself as she reached the dead river bed at the bottom of the ravine. Worry uncharacteristically ate at her mind. “ _It’ll be alright. The Force is all things and I am the Force._ ”

She tried to let her mind flow outside of herself as she drove, but she couldn’t seem to do that today. A nervous tension settled into her stomach and wouldn’t go away even with meditation earlier that morning or now when she tried.

Greyer knew she should be safe. She’d taken precautions to keep her identity unknown.

She’d taken time to conceal her presence in the Force with that morning meditation in the unlikely event that someone was Force-sensitive in the village. She’d unbraided her Padawan braids - she had several at the base of her neck to conceal the most important one, and she’d put up her hair in a tight bun. Most importantly, she’d left her lightsaber hidden in her ship and exchanged it for a blaster.

She was a good shot. Her dad taught her how to shoot better than any hotshot in the cantina, but it didn’t have the same comfort that came with her lightsaber.

Greyer crested the far side of Kelvin Ridge and gunned her speeder bike across the highlands towards the nearest point of civilization. She hoped that it was the Sacred Village she was looking for.

She’d feel awkward riding into the village that worshiped the Hutts as gods instead of the one dedicated to the Force. That’d make for an interesting conversation, considering her family history with the Hutts.

The dots on the horizon rapidly expanded, each represented a different Sacred Village. She scanned the varying landmarks, like flagpoles, for distinctions between the villages ahead.

One flag caught her eye. It was tattered and sun-bleached, but Greyer almost instinctively recognized the sigil on one particular flag. She saw a sigil with widespread wings with a lite lightsaber between those wings. The symbol of the old Jedi Order.

There were other flags with different symbols on them. Greyer thought that she recognized one of the other markers as an old Hutt tattoo. Sadly, that was the only other one she thought she knew.

She kept an eye out for more of the Jedi Order’s sigil, and each pole seemed to have the flag until one spire appeared on her right with a single Jedi standard.

Greyer quickly banked her speeder and leaned against the turn. The speeder’s tanks were full and she couldn’t risk rolling it. If she wasn’t careful and rolled the speeder, she’d lose all the water in the tanks. That was the last thing that Greyer needed for this visit.

Another spire with a Jedi banner rose in the distance and Greyer spotted the outline of a village in the distance.

The structures she saw weren’t anything like the ones in Niima Outpost. Where the buildings in Niima were created from scrap and other found materials, the ones in this Sacred Village were constructed from more natural materials.

If Greyer weren’t watching for it and following the path, she might not have noticed the settlement.

As she approached, Greyer let her consciousness extended beyond her own mind. It was risky to use the Force around this village, but Greyer still did it. To her, it was one worth taking. She preferred to know the emotions and foremost thoughts of the inhabitants.

Her quick glimpse beyond herself gave her enough information. Obviously they were expecting a visitor with a mixture of curiosity, aversion, distrust, excitement, joy, desperation, and many other mixed feelings.

Simply by looking at the villagers as she slowed on approach, she could see that they weren’t used to outsiders.

“ _I wonder how they’d receive me if they knew,_ ” Greyer thought with a private smile.

She brought her speeder to a complete stop on the edge of the Sacred Village of the Force. A handful of people had rushed to greet her with raised blasters.

“I come in peace, _see_?” Greyer said, raising her hands in mock surrender. She waited for them to make the first move.

For some reason, Greyer found the whole situation amusing. Adherents of the Church of the Force were aiming blasters at a Jedi, and they didn’t even know it.

“Do not fire on her,” another voice called over the din of many villagers talking. “She is the moisture farmer, Greyer.”

Over the craggy dunes, she spotted the older form of the man who’d summoned her here, Lor San Tekka.

Greyer leaned forward to pat the tanks at the front of her speeder. “See, guys, I have your water right here.”

“Stop pointing your blasters at her,” San Tekka ordered his fellow villagers.

The four or five younger villagers with blasters pointed towards Greyer finally lowered their weapons with some mild grumbling.

“Come, come, Miss Greyer.” San Tekka beckoned for her to bring her speeder in.

Greyer slowly drove the bike into town and wove her way the adobe buildings where Lor San Tekka led her.

“Everyone!” San Tekka announced as he brought her to the center of town. “Everyone, gather here. Yes, that means you, Tanden.”

Thirty to fifty people of various species and ages dropped what they were doing and formed a semi-circle around Greyer and San Tekka. The older man stood on some stones, elevating himself slightly above the crowd.

“Thank you, everyone,” the older man began. “As you all know, our current situation is rather problematic, and could even become dire if unresolved. With our cisterns cracked, our ability to store water is limited, so the elders and I have asked for the assistance of the moisture farmer, Greyer.”

Greyer gave a wave from where she sat on her speeder and tried to make her smile more welcoming. The villagers mostly gave her weary looks, they didn’t seem to care one way or another about Greyer. She was at least happy that they weren’t hostile towards her now.

“If she can, she will be helping provide water for us,” continued San Tekka. “Would you like to say a few words, miss?”

“Uh-yeah.” Greyer sat up straighter in her speeder’s seat. “Like he said, I’m Greyer. I don’t know the extent of your issues with your tanks, but I’ll see what I can do to help. With any luck and planning, I’ll be able to come out here every other day with enough water to keep you guys going until you can get back on your feet.”

She hopped off her speeder, proudly patting the side of her tanks. “In the meantime, if anyone has empty jugs, jars, canteens, or whatever else you use, bring them here and we’ll remedy that problem.” 

Greyer uncoiled her transfer hose while Lor San Tekka organized his people. In no time at all, a line of people with empty containers of varying sizes formed around her speeder.

She had her hand switching the valve on and off for what seemed like hours as devotees of the Church of the Force had their jars, persevering glasses, and canteens filled with water. 

Greyer was happy when the last in line had their large clay pot filled to the brim. She was even happier when she saw she still had a quarter of a tank left.

Maybe supplying the Sacred Village wouldn’t be as hard as she thought.

Greyer looked up from her gages to Lor San Tekka. “Is that everyone?”

The older man nodded. “Yes, that’s all of them.”

“Good, good.” She eyed her tanks again. “Your village wouldn’t have any extra storage tanks detached from that cistern? There’s still a little left in my tanks, and if you call could use it, it’s your no extra charge.”

“That’s very kind of you, miss,” the older man said. “I’m sure we can find something. Come, let’s sit and discuss things like payment and whatnot.”

He invited her into a small adobe home with strings of large beads hanging as a substitute door. The older man held some strings of beads aside for Greyer and gestured for her to sit on one side of a low table.

“Sit, please.”

Greyer took his offer and Lor San Tekka sat opposite from her.

“Can I offer you anything? Perhaps tea?” He was already reaching for his supplies.

She shook her head. “That’s kind of you, but I couldn’t-”

A fragrant aroma filled the arid air in the adobe home. She hadn’t smelled anything like that in years.

“Are you sure? It’s an herbal mixture from Naboo. The leaves will keep for decades in a climate like Jakku’s.” San Tekka set a kettle on a burner and produced two earthenware cups that were old but beautifully crafted and painted.

The offer of a heated cup of Nabooian tea was tempting, and when she was a Padawan, tea was a bit of a guilty pleasure. Her mother, father, uncle, and even Master Luke would sometimes gift her teas from worlds she hadn’t visited before. Even her brother brought her small wooden boxes of loose aromatic leaves he’d picked up from far off planets.

Greyer was coming up on her third anniversary of coming to Jakku, tea as aromatic that had become a forgotten luxury from a life left abandoned. But, now as a moisture farmer as Jakku, such an offer seemed too extravagant for her facade.

“That seems like a little much to offer a moisture farmer,” Greyer replied, deciding that it might be best to avoid the offer. “I imagine that a favor or even a few spare parts would suffice it for this visit.”

Lor San Tekka went ahead and put the exotic leaves in the earthenware cups. It wouldn’t be long before the heated water was ready to fill the cups.

“I must insist. It is not too lavish of a gift for a Jedi like yourself, I imagine. Besides, tea, particularly Nabooian teas, helps calm the nerves and can deepen meditation, even hours after drinking. A young Jedi Padawan at the New Jedi Temple introduced me to that fact long ago.”

Greyer’s eyes widened. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out one word. “How-?”

“Don’t worry, Greyer,” the older gentleman said with a gentle, reassuring tone. Somehow, this put Greyer a little more at ease. “I said I recognized your face and I remembered where I’d seen you before, I know where you’ve come from. You look like your mother, you know.”

“I’ve been told this before.” Greyer reached for the earthen cup that San Tekka filled with boiled water. She took a sip of still steeping tea. The taste hadn’t even reached its full potency, but Greyer already tasted the Nabooian leaves’ strength. It’d been years since she’d drank tea, and the taste was already strong to her taste buds.

“How is she? Your mother?” San Tekka asked.

Greyer sighed. “She was good last time I saw her, but it’s been a while since I last saw her.”

“And your father?”

She shrugged this time. “I wouldn’t know. He left before I could see him off when I came to Jakku.”

Lor San Tekka nodded, but didn’t ask anything more as they sipped their tea.

After a while, a deep sigh escaped Greyer’s lips. Contentment overwhelmed the previous feeling of anxiety. Greyer remembered why she loved tea. It really did help bring calm to her mind, and perhaps it really would help her meditate later that evening.

“Thank you,” Greyer murmured. She set down the cup.

“You’re welcome,” Lor San Tekka answered. He poured her another cup, and she was thankful for it.

If being known as a Jedi to this Sacred Village elder meant a few good cups of tea, Greyer felt comfortable with it. On Jakku, this seemed to be a small price to pay for an exotic drink.

She took another sip, before asking in a low tone, “Does anyone else know? About me I mean?”

The older man shook his head. “No, I’ve told no one. I remember that you were good at hiding, and I won’t expose you if you want to hide here on Jakku.”

“Thank you.” Greyer nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rayner here,
> 
> I hope that you all are enjoying this story so far. I've been enjoying writing it.
> 
> ~Rayner out


	5. Entries: 12 - 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Greyer manages her moisture farm and finishes some repairs, and what happens when Greyer deals with her darker nightmares.

> ****
> 
> **Entry # 12**
> 
> ****

****  


How Greyer was managing, she didn’t know, but she was.

With vaporators one and two down for repairs, the demand for water quickly outgrew her ability to produce it. Niima Outpost constantly needed water and resupply of the happabore troughs, but so did the Sacred Village of the Force.

But somehow, she managed all the demands. The arrangement she’d made with all her buyers worked well enough for the moment. She had to wonder how much longer that would last for.

This was her new routine: Greyer would refill the troughs and her supply tanks in Niima daily, and in the early afternoon, every second or third day would haul her second tank load to the Sacred Village of the Force instead of to Niima.

It was Greyer’s new norm, and it earned her more questioning glances from Niima locals. But that was nothing new for her. For one reason or another, people always found an excuse to look at her strangely. At least this time, Greyer felt like she earned it.

Even Rey looked at her funny when she’d head off for the village.

“Y’know they’re crazy, right?” Rey asked as her water jugs were filled. “All the Sacred Villagers are nuts.”

Greyer shrugged with a knowing smirk. “They seem pretty sane to me - just different than what I’m used to. Maybe you should come with me sometime. There you go!”

She plugged up the jug and hoisted it into its place on Rey’s speeder.

“What do you mean ‘used to?’ Don’t tell me that Off-Worlders believe in the Force too?”

“Then I won’t.”

“So, Off-Worlders do believe in the Force?”

“I thought you didn’t want to know?”

The look Rey gave her brought an even broader smirk to Greyer’s mug.

“Are you going to tell me or not?”

Greyer laughed mostly to herself but did answer Rey. “There are Off-Worlders who believe in the Force. There were a lot of them not long ago. They had a temple somewhere out there. Some even say that they could even use it.”

Her smile turned sad as she remembered the Temple. She would have said even a little more, but a deep twinge of sorrow hit an even deeper emotional bruise.

The other Jedi, Padawan learners, and adherents were like family to her, and they were all gone now. She missed them. She missed all those whom she’d lost to the tides of war. She’d lost too many.

Rey’s eyes went wide, understanding the implications of the new information. “Is the Force real, and could they really use it?”

Some of her happiness returned to her smile as she nodded. “I think they could, but I thought you called them crazy?”

“Well, it is kinda nuts.” Rey hopped on her speeder and hurried off into the sunset.

> ****
> 
> **Entry # 13**
> 
> ****

****  


Terror choked out any rational thought as Greyer looked at her hands in defeat. A chunk of her lightsaber was in either hand. She could see the once-whole blue kyber crystal falling from the core in jagged fragments.

“Keep _fighting,_ ” Greyer commanded herself, but her body rebelled. She wanted to stand - to rise to meet the challenge that threatened her life, but her body was paralyzed, frozen in place.

The only movement Greyer managed was looking up from her sheered lightsaber to stare at her attackers - the Knights of Ren. Their black armor, cloaks, and helmets melded with shadow, making it almost impossible for her to track the figures. She needed to know where they were. She needed to know where the next strike was coming from. 

“Fight!” she screamed immediately, but her limbs refused to move. She felt jagged shards of durasteel dig deep into the palms of her hands as she gripped the lightsaber pieces with white knuckles.

Greyer inhaled sharply and closed her eyes, trying to prepare herself for the inevitable. She could fight them. Even without her lightsaber, she could fight them and win.

She tried to clear her head, she tried to sense the Force around her, but her efforts failed. Her thoughts were crowded, and she couldn’t feel the Force.

A panic that she’d long forgotten gripped her mind. She couldn’t feel the Force. Loneliness deeper and stronger than any ever she’d felt before took over her whole being.

“No, no, _no_!” Greyer screamed aloud, panicking.

“ _Yes_ , Breha! Now you know the power of the dark side!” a familiar, unmistakable voice growled at her.

Greyer’s eyes opened. In front of her, standing among the Knights, was their leader - Kylo Ren wielding his cruel vibrant red lightsaber.

He smiled cruelly at her. It was a smile that she had once known to be so friendly now twisted back in upon her.

“Are you prepared to die, _useless_ Padawan?”

Kylo raised his saber high about his head, ready to deliver the killing blow. All she could do was watch the red, unstable blade descend in a deadly arc towards her. She wanted - no needed - to brace herself for the attack. Maybe she could fend him off, but her body resisted her.

Agonizing pain shot through her body the moment the crimson blade impacted her torso, and Greyer’s eyes shot opened, and she inhaled sharply. Her breath was rapid and shallow, and her mind was racing.

Where were the Knights? Where was Kylo Ren with his red lightsaber? Why was she on her back? Was she in a bunk?

It took Greyer longer than she felt comfortable with to realize what happened.

“It was just a dream,” she muttered as she brought her breathing under control. “A dark side dream….”

Despite this realization, Greyer rolled over on her side and reached for her utility belt. She always kept it within arm’s reach of her bunk. Her finger searched for the familiar feel of the cool durasteel cylinder. 

Greyer felt tension ease away from her chest as her hand rested on her weapon of choice. Her fingers curled around the leather grip, feeling it’s wholeness and completeness.

“It was _just_ a dream,” Greyer repeated, releasing her saber and rolled back over.

She considered falling back asleep but decided against it. She knew well enough that it was no ordinary nightmare. It had all the hallmarks of a dark side attack on her subconscious. If she fell asleep again, another attack was inevitable. 

Greyer reached up and flicked the overhead bunk light. Now that she could see, Greyer sucked air in through her teeth and grimaced. 

“That was a bad one,” she muttered. She sat up in bed and stared at her hands.

Where she’d gripped the jagged shards of her broken lightsaber in the dream were corresponding deep cuts and gashes. As Greyer looked closely, she thought she saw shards of durasteel and kyber embedded in her palms. 

She clenched her fists to contain the blood and slipped out of bed. It’d be simple enough to clean and wrap the residual wounds. 

Though her ship’s lights were dark, it was easy enough to see. The floor lights in the main hall always remained on no matter what power setting was on, and they made it simple to find her way around her ship.

Greyer made her way to the commons area with the holo Dejarik board where she kept the medkit. The lights turned on automatically as she entered thanks to motion sensors, and once she blinked the spots away, she reached for the medkit.

“Where is it?” Greyer mumbled, rooting around in the bag. She set aside a roll of bandages, tweezers, antibacterial ointment, and med-tape on the Dejarik holo board and prepped them.

She sat down with the overhead light set on the brightest setting and looked deeply into her sliced up hands.

“Amazing,” she said and reached for the small set of tweezers. There were shards of something buried in her hands. She’d need to remove the debris before she could apply the antibacterial ointment and bandage. 

Involuntary tears welled in her eyes as she plucked the largest shard from her left hand. When the tweezers finally pulled it out, she held it up to the light for examination. 

“ _Durasteel._ Definitely, durasteel,” she muttered, turning and twisting it in the light. “That’s the worst dream yet.”

Greyer set aside the fragment and began the difficult process of removing the rest of them. It took half an hour before she felt certain there was nothing left. She reached for the anti-bac ointment and rubbed in deep before wrapping her hand tight.

The wrappings made it much harder to clear and clean her right hand. It wasn’t as though she was having trouble because of coordination. She was ambidextrous after all - it’d made learning lightsaber dueling fun. The bandages restrained her just enough to make it difficult.

But she finished applying the bandages and returned the supplies to the medkit.

As she sat in the commons area, Greyer considered what she should do next. Her mind and body were tired, even despite the dark side nightmare, but she knew sleep would only mean more attacks. She wanted to avoid more of those. But the consequences of staying awake would be fatigue, both mentally and physically - she didn’t much like that idea either.

Greyer heaved a defeated sigh. If the dark side nightmares had a conscious effort behind them, it had achieved some victory over her. She wouldn’t be getting more sleep, and she’d have to keep an eye out for infection until the cuts healed on their own.

Though she was already an early riser, and she’d need to leave for her vaporators in a couple of standard hours, it was still too early to head out for the day. Instead, Greyer decided to return to her bunk, wrap herself in blankets and meditate like she did when she was a child.

Greyer would make the most of her sleepless hours before her day began.

> ****
> 
> **Entry # 14**
> 
> ****

****  


The cuts on Greyer’s hands made life inconvenient.

Keeping the wounds clean and free of sand or even remnants of broken durasteel and kyber crystals was harder than it seemed, especially as a moisture farmer. The bandages were constantly getting wet when she attached and detached the transfer hoses, and sand would build up on the wet cloths because that was unavoidable on Jakku. 

Thankfully, so long as Greyer kept the bandages and cuts clear and clean, they’d heal. There would be scarring, though, that much was unavoidable.

So, all Greyer could do was readjust the wrappings on her right hand as she worked on the piping in vaporator-one.

“ _This makes wish I had stitches or med-glue, makes me miss Marta too,_ ” Greyer thought as she worked. Her medkit wasn’t supplied with stitches or medical grade glue. Though it might not have been helpful.

Her hands were as much a tool to her as anything on her utility belt. It was likely that any stitching or glue would’ve torn from the consistent usages of her hands. Still, though, it might have accelerated the healing process.

“Where’d I put the replacement pipe?” she muttered, searching her bag of spare parts. She found it, and she began to install and tighten it into its place.

The work took Greyer twice as long as it normally would thanks to the bandages making her coordination clumsy, but there were chores to do to maintain her moisture farm.

“Finally,” Greyer said with a heavy sigh. “Now, let see if these hoses work.”

Greyer stood and admired her work. Vaporator-one’s repairs and renovations were nearly complete.

The internal clock, as unlikely as it was, was the easiest part to repair. 

Rey found an X-Wing’s onboard internal computer that Plutt rejected, but Greyer happily wired a power pack to it after a thorough clean. It booted just fine but took a lot longer to convince the computer system that her vaporator was an X-Wing that needed to know the day/night cycle of a backwater world.

The burst exterior hosing, as well as pipes that she’d later found to be problematic, turned out to be the harder to acquire.

Plutt made it difficult, just like she expected he would.

He bartered hard for anything that she wanted, and even tried to con her out of her hard-earned credits and resources. In the end, Greyer overpaid for subpar parts.

She made it work. She’d always made it work. Even long before she came to Jakku, she’d been making do with what she had wherever she had it.

Greyer rummaged through the large bag of spare parts. It took a moment, but she finally produced a box containing the more delicate spare parts. Inside were coiled wires and several plastic hoses of various widths.

She thumbed through a few of them while taking a visual estimate of the size and selected one. Visually, it looked like a match.

With clumsy fingers, Greyer removed the burst hose and fitted its replacement on the vaporator. The fit wasn’t perfect, but it’d work efficiently enough once she secured it in place and sealed it with tape.

“There!” Greyer muttered, putting on the finishing touches. “Now, let’s see if it works together.”

Greyer set aside her tools and spare parts and powered on vaporator-one for the first time in months. Eagerly, she observed the readings that were coming through.

“So far, so good,” Greyer observed, gnawing her inner lip in concentration. “It looks like the hose is holding even with the pressure.”

She released a heavy sigh of relief as the last of the reading came back as normal. If she’d been somewhere other than Jakku, trying to keep from being noticed, Greyer would’ve whooped and hollered to celebrate her success.

Instead, she plopped down in the sand, smiling like a fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rayner here,
> 
> If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! I love you for coming this far!
> 
> I hope that you've enjoyed reading. I also want to apologize for the month between this chapter and the previous one. Life tends to get in the way when it comes to writing, and I didn't have the energy to write. 
> 
> Regardless, I hope you've enjoyed the chapter and I hope that I can write the next one for you soon.
> 
> ~ Rayner out


	6. Entries: 15 - 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Greyer struggles with vaporator repairs and takes time to celebrate and relax.

> **Entry # 15  
>  **

“No. No. _No_ \- _argh_!” echoed through the canyonlands like an annoyed, frustrated, and dying avian. However, no avians - reptilian, mammalian, or ornitho - were being hurt.

It was Greyer, fumbling her way through the daily maintenance of the vaporators. Her bandaged hands were less than dexterous, and any task requiring a modicum of hand-eye coordination was ten times more difficult.

Greyer rested her forehead against vaporator-seven’s side paneling with a sigh of frustration. 

“How ‘m I _supposed_ to get this done?”

The light from her headlamp flooded the innards of the vaporator, revealing a mess of pipes and wires. Somewhere in that chaos was an urgent problem Greyer needed to deal with before Jakku’s sun rose. Somewhere in there was a pipe with major sand and grit build-up that causing water to back up and freeze where it shouldn’t.

If Greyer didn’t find the metal pipe and clear or replace it before sunrise, she’d be forced to shut down vaporator-seven for the day to prevent further backups and the inevitable breakages. Worse still, it’d mean that she was down a second vaporator for a whole day - she wouldn’t have enough water for all deliveries tomorrow.

She’d been searching for the blocked pipe, using a wrench to help her divine where her problem was when her bandaged hands fumbled and dropped her tool.

Greyer huffed and screwed her eyes shut in frustration. Master Luke’s old words of admonition rang in her ears, “ _Giving up isn’t the way of the Jedi._ ”

He’d said a lot of things like that, but Greyer had heard that one more than most. She’d always hear that phrase when she couldn’t focus during intense meditation or when lightsaber training particularly kicked her ass. It’d been annoying to hear over and over again, but it’d succeeded in its purpose. Greyer never quit.

“ _Keep trying, Greyer,_ ” she thought. “ _Keep trying._ ”

Greyer adjusted her headlamp as she peered back into the innards of her vaporator. “Which one of you is my problem? Hmmm? And where’d the wrench _go_?”

She reached inside, snaking an arm through wayward pipes, and dodging wires connecting valves and sending read-outs of filters to the internal computer system. As she went, she rapped a bare-knuckle against the pipes and listened. Greyer listened for the echo, and each came back sounding hollow.

“Why couldn’t I have added a system that’d tell me which pipe was blocked, not just one that tells me there is a blockage,” Greyer mumbled as she went. “Because I didn’t - that’s _why_. What’d Dad say about rushed jobs - _not to_ , but it’s okay. I’m okay. I can fix _thi_ \- oh, _oooh_ , what do we have _here_?”

Greyer tapped on the pipe again, and the sound that returned to her became back without a hollow resonance. A grin plastered itself on her face. She’d found it.

Too bad it was in the back.

Her arm, up to her shoulder, was stretched into the farthest reaches of her vaporators.

“How ‘m I _suppose_ to deal with that?”

She tapped on pipe thoughtfully, trying to think of how to fix the problem.

Experimentally, Greyer rolled her shoulders and attempted to move her elbow without losing the problematic pipe. The crowd of tubes in the front restrained her, but if she approached differently, she might have room to maneuver.

Greyer sighed reluctantly and retracted her arm. She poked her head inside to make a guess at which one was problematic. It seemed safe to assume that the one farthest in the back, but assuming put her in danger of being an ass.

“Looks like I’ll need the wrench after all - _kriff_ ,” she muttered, shining her headlamp over what she could see. The shadows of the closer ones blocked her view of the problem. “Where’d it _go_?”

She angled her light down, revealing deep shadows. Several meters down, descending under sand and ground, was vaporator-seven’s underground storage tank and atop the tank was her wrench.

“Out of reach, unless I dig out the tank… I don’t _wanna_ do that.”

Puffy wisps of vapors condensed as Greyer released another heavy sigh. This one was less of frustration and more to summon concentration.

It normally should be effortless for Greyer to refocus, but on mornings like this, when a problem stumped her to the point of frustration, it felt difficult to connect to the Force. Emotions like exasperation, annoyance, and vexation clouded her mind.

“In- _out_ ,” she breathed, letting the inhales and exhales soothe over thoughts.

Once her thoughts synced with her breathing, she stretched her hand out over the hole and aimed her headlamp beam down. Greyer didn’t need to see her wrench, but it felt like it helped.

The shape and dimensions of the inside of vaporator-seven formed in her consciousness as though she could feel it all. She sensed the contours and twists of the pipes, the stonework hole holding the sands at bay, and the solid concrete of the underground tank. On top of the cold concrete, her mind touched the cool metal of her wrench.

“ _In-out_

Greyer felt like she simply picked up the wrench, even while being a good six to seven meters above the tank. Her tool floated upwards towards her hand, though in her mind, it already was in her hand. However, only when cool metal came into contact with her fingertips did Greyer know that she was truly successful in summoning her wrench to her.

Her knuckled turned white as she gripped the wrench. The last thing she wanted to do was drop it again and have to repeat the process again. She withdrew her arm and the wrench.

A certain amount of relief flowed over Greyer as she rested the heavy wrench head in her left palm. While the pipe wrench was a newer addition to Greyer’s collection of tools, after close to three years of using it to work on the vaporators Greyer found it hard not to attach sentimental value to it. Some of her tools had been with her longer than most of her friends, she’d even brought a few of them with her when she spied on the First Order.

Greyer glared into the shadows inside her vaporator.

" _Let's try this again._ "

With a firm on the pipe wrench, she reached back inside, worming her way around obstacles that would impede her repairs. Greyer slowly found the problem pipe.

“ _Good. Now, to replace it._ "

Carefully angling her headlamp, Greyer peered inside. She spotted the joints she’d need to disconnect. It was a two-handed job. That complicated things.

She wouldn’t be able to see what she was doing, but what other choice did she have.

Greyer reached in with her other hand and maneuvered her arm towards the back, trying to maximize movement. There was barely enough for Greyer to bend and wiggle either elbow. It’d have to do.

Not for the first time, Greyer had to use her senses to work. Typically, it was through the Force, but doing technician work as cover in the First Order gave her a lot of experience fixing issues in small, cramped places where she couldn’t see and needed to work by feel. Working blind was nothing new to Greyer.

There was one perk of working blind, with her hands deep in machinery: she could use the Force subtly without her supervisors and superiors noticing. It was an inane use of the Force she rarely liked doing, and only worth the risk when dexterity and grip were lacking along with sight.

Greyer twisted her wrench round and round the coupling at the top of the pipe. It was grueling work to disconnect it, but the effort was well worth it. She pulled it out with a hefty tug and withdrew from the inner workings of the vaporator.

“Finally, you _kriffing_ jerk."

She winked and stared through. She couldn’t see through to the other side. Greyer swore.

Tinges of gray inked up the sky in the east, she knew that she had little time left still to complete the repair.

Fishing around in her bag, she pulled out something to clean with and began the process.

Hardwater, sand, and larger bits of gravel formed the clog around one of the first filters. She admitted defeat and removed the filter. She’d clean it later, and decided to replace it with one of her extras.

The hard water and sand were harder to deal with, but elbow grease fixed everything.

“Finally!” Greyer triumphantly hollered.

> **Entry # 16  
>  **

“ _You don't get views like this on cities worlds._ "

The stars above Jakku shined brighter than any neon lights on Coruscant ever could. Niima Outpost had so few light sources to pollute vision that it allowed Greyer an uninhibited view of nameless constellations and wayfinder tools that were unknown to her.

Greyer lay with her back against her ship’s antennae array, watching the galaxy drift by. Close at hand was a bottle of something strong she’d picked up from the cantina earlier that day for a couple of cheap credits.

Normally, she’d be in her bunk, deep in the grasp of a dream - good or bad. But, tonight wasn’t an ordinary night for Greyer.

 _Tonight._ Tonight was her birthday.

She’d forgotten her birthday (and consequently her twin brother’s birthday too) and any other significant date in the standard planetary year. Surviving long enough for the Force to elaborate on why she’d come to Jakku and maintaining her moisture farm were her priorities, and they still were her top responsibilities.

Exact dates and times were irrelevant to survival, so it’d been one of the first things to slip from her mind. Since Jakku didn’t have any annual holidays, there wasn’t anything for Greyer to remember and add those dates to her own, so she simply forgot. 

However, the X-Wing computer she’d rigged into vaporator-one reminded her. Somehow, it was picking up a signal and was doing more than tracking Jakku’s day and night cycle. It spat out the standard planetary time, day, month, and year.

It reminded Greyer that life went on elsewhere in the galaxy. The Resistance and the First Order and everyone else marched on without her interference. It had her wondering what was going on up there above her.

She hadn’t cared about the significance of days, but knowing the date made all the difference.

So, Greyer spent a few credits to mark the occasion for the first time in years. She couldn’t recall when she’d last celebrated her birth on her birthday on the exact day. The last time was probably long before she went undercover to spy on the First Order, back when the New Jedi Temple still stood.

Greyer smiled thoughtfully as she watched shooting stars cascade across the sky, and reached for the bottle.

She raised the bottle to the stars before taking a long swig of the dubious dark amber liquid. It was strong and tasted like alcohol and was probably distilled or brewed with water condensed from her moisture farm, so Greyer had her reservations. But the burning sensation accompanying a sickly honey-like taste was welcome.

“ _That's_ for you. I'll pour one out later," she whispered as it rushed towards her stomach, buring all the way down.

She was being sentimental, so unsurprisingly she thought of those she’d lost. The faces of friends, fellow younglings and Padawans, mentors, Resistance fighters, mentors, and romances came flooding back to Greyer’s mind. She missed them. She missed them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rayner here,
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this far. I've absolutely loved writing this, and I hope that you've enjoyed reading it. 
> 
> I apologize if this is rather meandering right now, but that'll be remedied soon, I swear. For now, it's kind of a slice of life sort of thing. 
> 
> Anyway, feel free to tell me what you think and if there's anything you think I can improve. I'd really appreciate it.
> 
> ~Rayner out


	7. Entries from Rey: 4 -5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey manages her salvage and accepts an unusual invitation.

> ****
> 
> **Entry from Rey # 4**

**  
**

The blinding sun made Rey squint as she stepped out of a Star Destroyer’s husk, dragging her haul behind her. 

It’d been a decent day for her, but Plutt’s evaluation would make or break Rey’s mood in the coming days. He could break anyone’s spirits. His opinion was the word of the gods for a scavenger in Niima Outpost.

Rey knew this all too well and the Blod Fish’s opinion could wait until tomorrow. But she still suppressed a smile as she trotted down the sand dunes, dragging her scavenged collection along. Her speeder waited for her at the bottom, ready to take off at Rey’s command.

After deactivating the anti-theft measures, Rey loaded her salvage onto her speeder and mounted. The engine sputtered and strained, but started nonetheless.

Her speeder was unruly to maneuver and turn. It was somewhat slow but once Rey got it moving, it was fast.

Dust slowly kicked up around her as she accelerated. Soon enough, a sizable cloud followed in her wake.

Rey hurried along. 

It was best to get back early. Staying out in the Graveyard of Ships for too long could be dangerous. You could get stranded in a ships' corpse because a huge sandstorm rolled in unexpectedly. Or you could lose track of time and the sun goes down before you could leave, leaving you unable to see what's in front of you. There were so many things that could go wrong for a scavenger, and they will go wrong, eventually.

It was safer to leave early for other reasons too. Rey needed daylight to clean up good parts and repair the worse off ones and getting through Plutt's Concession Stand line sooner sometimes meant more portions. Thankfully, she didn’t need to today. 

But aside from getting back as quickly as possible, Rey liked going fast. She relished the feeling of getting her speeder to top speed and traveling across the Goazon. It was freeing, and the closest she'd ever gotten to flying.

(She didn't count that one incident with the Ghtroc freighter or talk about it either.)

She wondered if steering her speeder really was anything like flying a ship. Maybe Greyer would let her try one day, assuming that freighter would ever fly again. The moisture farmer seemed to think so, but Rey had her reservations.

It wasn’t long before Rey was speeding past the Sitter, her odd neighbor in the Goazon Badlands. The tall stone pillar where the Sitter sat day after day was one of the easiest landmarks for Rey to see when heading home to the Hellhound. It was the signal for Rey to focus on steering instead of enjoying the ride.

She had a few spare survival rations (of the Imperial variety) from when she found some intake valves in a surprisingly intact Y-Wing, so she had time to work with. Time was just what she needed today.

It was much easier to get more rations for her salvage when it was cleaned up or make repairs. She could do that in Niima Outpost at Plutt’s wash tables, but the time there was taken out of the portions paid. Whenever Rey had highly valuable salvage, she’d try to clean and fix it at her own workbench instead of Plutt’s wash tables. There were days Rey went hungry just to ensure that she was paid the most for her parts. Those meals tasted the best.

Rey slowed her speeder as the outline of her walker appeared in the dunes ahead of her. Even with her reduced speed, the side of the walker grew fast.

“C’mon!” she groaned. She let off the accelerator completely and pumped the air brakes, the last thing she wanted to do was have her salvage go flying all over the sand.

Her speeder responded slowly. Gradually, the speed reduced to a crawl, and her speeder returned hard to steer. Rey guided it carefully between the walker’s gigantic legs. 

Her speeder took its time to slow down. It was gradual, but the speed reduced to a crawl and without the speed, it returned to being unruly to steer. Rey had to carefully guide it between the legs.

She was home.

Rey eyed the AT-AT she called home. Nothing looked out of place, but it was a good rule to double-check. You could never be too careful on Jakku. Everything was as it should be, though. Teedos respected her claimed territory and Plutt’s thugs made sure that other scavengers left her alone.

Sand shifted beneath her feet as she hopped off and she hummed as she ran a hand over her salvages before selecting the parts she wanted to bring in. 

“ _This one’s got bad scoring - a tough clean. And that one’s got a lot of sand - ugh._ ” Similar thoughts went through Rey’s head as she assessed her work for the evening. Only a few pieces of what she’d collected today were worth anything as they were, so she brought in the more valuable but damaged pieces and left the rest.

With a bit of effort, Rey opened the hatch on the underbelly of the AT-AT and entered with her arms overflowing. She cringed as the mechanical parts clanged and clanked when she unceremoniously dropped them on her workbench. 

Silence didn’t like to be broken in the Goazon Badlands.

Rey pulled a haphazard crate closer to her workbench and snuggly sat down to clean some build-up on a TIE fighter filter. She grabbed a brush and used it to scrub off built-up CO2. It was long hours before Rey was able to see the geometric patterns underneath the grime.

She turned it over and over in her hands, thinking, evaluating. “ _Seems fine. I’ll have to wash the inside before the Blob Fish would want it. Wonder if I can get it opened?_ ”

It took Rey a minute to pry the top off the cylindrical part. Much to her annoyance, there was a significant carbon build-up inside the filter as though the maintenance team for the TIE she pulled it from forgot to change it. It made Rey wonder how much supplies the Empire had available before it ended. 

“ _That’s gonna need to soak,_ ” Rey thought with a hum. 

She placed both halves of the filter in a makeshift bowl and swiveled in her seat to reach for her water jugged. Rey kept it in the shade to keep it cool and hidden from any trespassers.

When she picked it up, it made a disturbingly hollow sound. The water jug was almost empty. That wasn’t good.

“ _Looks like I’ve got to go to Niima anyway._ ”

Rey hauled the water jug outdoors and secured it to her speeder, and headed off. At least Greyer was far easier to deal with than the Blod Fish. 

Niima Outpost was within walking distances of her home, so the ride into town wasn’t long. That was a comfort to Rey. She wanted to return to her workbench as soon as she could. The sooner she got that filter soaking the sooner she could move onto other valuable parts.

She pulled into Niima as the sun began licking the horizon, threatening to set. It wouldn’t be long, maybe an hour, before nightfall.

Rey slung her water jug over her shoulders and trotted off into the marketplace where Greyer’s stand stood.

It really wasn’t much of a stand compared to other merchants in Niima. The Off-Worlder had claimed a spot in the market near the happabore trough, built a storage tank, and managed to maintain her claim in the years she’d been in Jakku. That’d impressed locals like Plutt and his thugs, but Rey wasn’t surprised by Greyer anymore. Anyone could see that the moisture farmer was here to stay.

Rey spotted the moisture farmer packing up her things from the booth, getting ready to head to the starship she used as a home. Rey hoped she wasn’t too late.

“Greyer,” Rey called as she got closer to get her attention.

The moisture farmer’s head snapped up from her work and waved to Rey.

“ _Rey_! I was hoping to see you.” Greyer smiled and sat down in a lounge chair made of scrap cloth. “First, what can I get you?”

“Water.” It was a very simple answer and to the point. She set the jug on the counter for Greyer to fill.

“Can do!”

The moisture farmer was far too cheerful as she filled the jug. It’d been rather off-putting for Rey and most other Jakku locals at first but, like everyone else, they’d grown accustomed to the Off-Worlder and her lighthearted attitude. Niima needed water, so Greyer became an odd fixture on Jakku.

“There you are.” 

Rey held out her hands as Greyer handed back the now heavy water jug.

“Thank you. I can have a few parts for you tomorrow.”

“Actually,” Greyer started, and Rey cringed. She knew what those words meant from someone you owed. Plutt used them all the time to change prices on her. She should be used to them by then, but she wasn’t. Rey never heard those words from Greyer, after a while she never expected to, but she should have. “You all right, Rey?”

Greyer must have noticed her flinch.

“Yes.” Rey nodded. “What do you need?”

It took the moisture farmer a moment to continue. “I was wondering if you’d like to help me with some ship maintenance. I need an extra set of hands to help me.”

Rey gave Greyer a skeptical look. “You want me to help you work on your ship?”

“Well, yeah. I’ve had things piling up on me for a while because … I hurt my hands a while back and it just can’t heal fast enough,” Greyer explained, showing her opened palms. Rey noticed specks of blood seeping through the wrappings. “It’s made normal vaporator maintenance difficult. I haven’t started any projects on my ship. I don’t trust myself to fix something without breaking it worse, but I keep finding issues that I’d rather fix some stuff sooner than later.”

“But you really want me to help fix your ship?”

Greyer looked at her confused but nodded. “Yes. You were the first person I thought of - you’re the only person I thought could help me. Not many people have any idea how ships work around here. Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll make you something.”

“Yes.” She could hear the shock in her own voice.

If the moisture farmer noticed, she didn’t say anything. “That’s great. Thank you so much. How about you come by in a few days? I should have all the spare parts I might need by then.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Rey nodded, before turning and walking back to her speeder, still in disbelief. She wondered if it was all a dream.

> ****
> 
> **Entry from Rey # 5**

****  


“ _Is this a good idea?_ ” Rey asked herself as she maneuvered her speeder towards Greyer’s freighter.

It had all seemed like a strange dream, at first, but there was nothing dream-like about it now. The moisture farmer did want a scavenger’s help, and she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Rey had had a few days to think about Greyer’s offer. The moisture farmer needed some time to prep, and Rey used that time to consider.

From the conversation that’d started this, it sounded like Greyer asked for work on her ship as a substitute to trading parts for water. That sounded like a good deal to Rey, but what if the deal changed again? What would happen then?

She didn’t know.

The moisture farmer wasn’t anything like Plutt, but this was Jakku. Someone didn’t come to Jakku without a reason, usually not a good one. You could trust someone to be a good person, but you couldn’t trust their past, and you didn’t know what would mean for their future.

Rey did trust Greyer, but she still wondered what would mean for the future.

She pulled her speeder alongside Greyer’s and secured it. It wasn’t likely that anyone would steal it. Everyone in Niima Outpost left the Off-Worlder alone. But Rey couldn’t be too careful.

“Greyer, I’m here,” Rey called as she walked up the freighter's boarding ramp.

There was a moment of (what felt like) prolonged silence before the Off-Worlder answered, “Come on in, Rey!”

Rey entered the ship. Even with the explicit invitation, she felt like she was trespassing. She felt a little comfort from having been there before, but that didn’t keep her from becoming confused by the halls.

Just when she was about to shout for directions, a rich, pungent smell filled her nose and made it tingle. It was unlike anything she’d ever smelled before. Rey wracked her brain, trying to identify the scents, but she couldn’t - it was something incredibly new.

She followed the smells through the ship and into the galley and lounge where Greyer was. The moisture farmer was standing in front of a stove with her back towards Rey. From the entryway, the scavenger spotted two or three pans that the moisture farmer was cooking with and was the origin of the unique odors. 

“Glad you could make it, Rey,” Greyer said over her shoulder. “Feel free to have a seat wherever you want. I’m almost done.”

“What’s that smell? Did something fry your wiring?” Rey asked, slipping onto a bar stool.

The moisture farmer sniffed the air, inquisitively, but shook her head. “I don’t think so. Maybe you’re smelling the spices and herbs? Here, I’m almost done.”

Rey watched Greyer grab two bowls and take her time filling it with food from each of the three pans. Eventually, the moisture farmer presented Rey a steaming meal, but Rey didn’t recognize anything. 

Rey looked at the meal dubiously. 

It looked like a mess of hundreds of strings with what she assumed was off-world vegetables and some sort of meat on top of it. She wondered if it was bloggin meat, but it wasn’t in a way that Rey had seen before. 

“What _is_ it?” 

“Noodles with some preserved veggies from Yavin, I think, and fried and breaded bloggin,” Greyer explained, stirring her’s together. “And let me know if it’s too much. I added some stuff to spice things up.”

Greyer spooled some noodles around her fork and popped it into her mouth. A look of satisfaction spread across the moisture farmer’s face.

“Go ahead and try.”

Rey obliged. 

The sliminess of the noodles and roughness of the alien vegetables surprised her, but the flavor was absolutely shocking. She couldn’t think of any words to describe it, she didn’t know any.

Greyer must have noticed, and she smiled knowingly. “You like it.”

Rey could only nod as she took another glorious bite.

Silence ensued as they devoured their meal. Greyer even refilled their bowls. Rey shouldn’t have been surprised by that. The moisture farmer was extremely generous with her food when Rey was sick years ago, but that kind of generosity still shocked the scavenger. 

Sooner, rather than later, the meal ended and it was time to get to the point.

Rey decided to start. “So, what do you need help with?”

“The most urgent thing is life support,” she answered, leaning back in her chair and smiling. “But there are some basic electrical problems in one of the cooling systems. Either is worth working on. Any of those have your interest?”

Rey felt funny being given an option, but the moisture farmer’s expectant look reassured her. She answered, “The life support system. What’s wrong with it specifically?”

“A lot of things from what I can tell,” Greyer explained. “From the tests I’ve run, the water reclaimer isn’t working, the atmospheric regulator doesn’t hold pressure, and that’s just what I can find. It makes me wish that there was a droid around here who could run a full diagnostic.”

She gave Greyer a questioning look. “ _Can’t_ you use the ship’s computer?”

But Greyer shook her head. “I haven’t been able to get anything out of the main computer that has anything to do with life support. I think sand or something else is messing with it. The circuitry needs to be thoroughly cleaned or replaced altogether.”

“It’s all got to be done manually?”

“Yes, sadly. The cooling system might be easier if you’d like.”

Rey weighed her options. Easy would make things simpler for her, but would it be worth it? 

“If life support is working, how much closer is your ship to space-worthy?”

“Hmm,” the moisture farmer muttered. “That compressor is still in the ignition line, and I need to make sure the atmospheric regulator’s filters are still good enough for breathable air, but it’s one step closer.”

“Let’s get started then.”

____

###### 

____

Once Greyer cleaned up their dishes, they walked the halls to where the life support systems sat, away from any serious danger, unless someone boarded the ship. Spare parts and tools had already been laid out, so she began tinkering with the first available system: the atmospheric regulator. 

One look at it, and she knew that it was an internal issue that replacing servos, wires, and re-insulating wires could fix. In addition to switching out parts, she used a rag to clear out any grit and grime she found. Jakku’s sand found its way into every corner and crevice of the planet. Even a piece of ship’s equipment as necessary and well protected as life support wasn’t safe.

Just a meter or two away, Greyer had her own task trying to fix the water reclaimer: untangling meters and meters of connected hoses and valves. Rey had only caught a quick look, but she’d seen that it was a mess. A previous owner made a complete mess of it. But if anyone could make headway of a water reclaimer, Rey was confident it’d be the odd moisture farmer.

At first, the two worked in silence. Greyer muttered to herself about her problems every now and then, but Rey was content to sit, work, and let the filling meal digest quietly.

But, after an hour or more of focused and deep work, Rey’s mind began to wander and she started to get a little bored.

“Do you think she’ll ever fly again?” Rey asked absentmindedly.

“Hmmm.” She heard from Greyer. “She had to get here somehow, so I don’t think she’s quite dead yet. _She’ll_ hold together.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the moisture farmer rub the ship’s wall affectionately. It was almost like the freighter was living thing to Greyer.

Rey sent Greyer a questioning look. “Why do they call ships “ _she_ ”?”

Greyer looked up from the coils of hoses and shrugged. “It’s an old superstition. It probably started because there are some men who are pretty much married to their ships, so it became a tradition. It could be made up for all I know, but that’s what my dad told me when I was a kid.”

She nodded and didn’t ask anything else. Instead, she reached for a rag to wipe down a dusty spot on the paneling.

Silence crept in once again as both went back to their work. Greyer hummed to herself and Rey returned to her thoughts.

Another hour passed before either of them said anything more than a loud mumble from the moisture farmer. It was only when a wayward thought wouldn’t go away that Rey said something else. 

“Greyer…” Rey began before she stopped herself. 

“ _Can I even ask her that question? What if it’s an off-world cultural thing? What if she gets mad?_ ” she thought nervously as the moisture farmer turned toward her.

“Yes?”

Rey closed her eyes, gathered her courage, and decided to ask her question. She opened her eyes and looked directly at the Off-Worlder.

“Why is your name Greyer? Did your mother choose that name?”

“ _Uh_...” A thoughtful look formed on the moisture farmer’s face. “No, that’s not the name my mother gave me. It's a nickname that friends of mine gave me as a kid, and it just kinda stuck around. Did you ever get any nicknames when you were younger?”

Rey shook her head. If she’d ever had a nickname, she couldn’t remember it. “No. I didn’t have any. … But if you know your real name, why isn’t that the name you go by?”

“Because …” the moisture farmer started but stopped. Greyer’s brow furrowed and Rey could almost see the thoughts forming on her face. “I was called Greyer a lot as a kid because some of the kids had trouble pronouncing my real name. When I was old enough that most everyone could, I didn’t feel like I deserved it. Besides, it fits better than my birth name most of the time.”

Her eyes grew wide in disbelief against her will. Rey couldn’t comprehend that someone would reject their real name so easily. “Why don’t you deserve your real name? I mean it’s _yours_.”

Greyer looked calm and relaxed as she gave Rey a concerned, worried look. “It is now, but it belonged to a queen once. I heard so many stories about her from my mother. They knew each other - the queen and my mother. The queen was a mentor and like a mother to my mom, and being named after her … well, it scared me. I felt like I was expected to grow up and be like her. I - I didn’t think I could be her, so I chose to be Greyer.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and something seized in her chest. She didn’t know why, but she felt betrayed. 

“What’s wrong, _Rey_? My name isn’t really a problem, is _it_?”

Loneliness and longing overwhelmed her as she whispered, “I don’t know my real name.”

She heard something scrape across the floor. Shortly after, she felt the moisture farmer pulled her into a hug. Reluctantly, Rey let Greyer’s arms wrap around her.

Rey didn’t cry. She didn’t want to cry. But she did like the feeling of being held. The feeling of another, a trusted person, in close proximity, felt comforting.

“Hey,” Greyer said, her voice sounded hoarse. Hours must have passed in silence. “Want to see if she flies? We won’t break atmosphere, but we can definitely try to get her off the ground.”

“Why are you asking me?” Rey croaked. Her voice broke too. It had been a long time.

“Because, you need a copilot to fly this thing right, and something tells me that you’d make one hell of a pilot.”

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rayner here,
> 
> Phew! For some reason, this one felt tough to write, and even now, I don't feel completely satisfied with it. After much reviewing, I could see where I could improve, so I figured it was ready to be read by others. 
> 
> I certainly hope that you enjoy this entry from Rey. Let me know what you think if you'd like. I absolutely love hearing from all of you!
> 
> ~Rayner out


	8. Entries: 17 - 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Greyer dreams of hot springs, notes that Jakku leaves you somewhat hopeless and that Teedos are weird, and has an interesting experience while meditating in Tuanul.

> ****
> 
> **Entry # 17**

**  
**

Greyer sighed contentedly as she sunk deeper into a natural hot spring. All the grime and grit that’d built up from living for years on Jakku washed away while the natural minerals and heated water soaked through her skin and undid all the knots hardened into her muscles.

“ _There’s nothing better than this,_ ” Greyer thought. Her limbs relaxed and she let the water take her. This was far more tranquilizing than meditation had been in a while.

But a sound, like tinnitus, broke through into her relaxed mind. Greyer wondered where the sound was coming from as she floated along.

The ringing bothered her, but she was reluctant to open her eyes. It’d go away, wouldn’t it?

It didn’t, so she opened her eyes.

To her immense displeasure, she wasn’t floating in a hot spring on a different planet. She was in her bunk on her ship on Jakku, and her alarm was whining at her.

She sighed heavily, rolled over, and slapped the off-switch on the control panel.

“That was a _good_ dream," she murmured into her pillow.

Habit made it a whole lot easier to get out of her bunk. She’d done it hundreds of times before, and she had a hundred more times to look forward to doing it.

She’d be a moisture farmer for as long as she needed to be. Until she sensed the Force calling her elsewhere, she was here.

The floor paneling was cold against her bare feet as she sat up in bed and reached for her boots. A quick thump to each while holding it upside down assured Greyer that nothing but unwelcome sand had taken residence in them, so she slipped them on.

There wasn’t much variation between regular clothing and pajamas after living on Jakku for so long. Greyer slept in the tunic and pants she’d wear throughout the day. The difference between daywear and nightwear was largely made up of if Greyer had her utility belt, sand scarf, vest, goggles, and wrappings on. 

Greyer pulled on these extra clothing but paused on her arm wrappings. She took a moment to inspect the bandages around her hands. They’d become the norm after a while, but it was good to check. She didn’t see any blood this morning. 

She peeled off the med-tape and gauze inquisitively. There wasn’t any blood or puss to be seen and instead of an opened wound, a significant, jagged scar ran across her palm.

It took a moment for her to unwrap her other hand and reveal a clean bandage and another pale, elongated, cruel scar.

Greyer chuckled morbidly. “ _At least this invalidates any handprint scans the First Order or the New Republic has on file._ ”

She clenched and unclenched her hands, testing out the scar tissue. Nothing strained, nothing broke. It was all just irregular scar tissue and calluses.

As she wrapped the length of cloth back around her wrists and palms, she wondered if this would change her lightsaber grip at all.

Fully clothed, Greyer gave her utility belt one last check, to assure herself that all her tools and lightsaber were there, as she headed out of her ship. Along the way, she grabbed a piece of rehydrated bread and a rationed protein piece she’d set aside the night before. Greyer had to make her morning rations last until later afternoon when she had enough to stop by her ship for the rest of her protein ration.

With that secured in a pouch on her utility belt, Greyer closed up her ship, mounted her speeder, and headed across the Goazon Badlands to her vaporators.

> ****
> 
> **Entry # 18**

**  
**

There was a certain desolation to Jakku that anyone visiting would immediately notice. It was easy to see from the environment and climate that made up the planet, and it took Greyer a long time to get used to it.

But, that was just the obvious and noticeable details of the planet. Now that Greyer had lived there for years, she noticed just how deep the feelings went.

Desolation described the climate itself, but there were other words too. They were words for the people. Depression, gloom, melancholy came to mind.

Whatever it was called, it permeated the atmosphere and diluted itself into the attitudes of the locals and long term residents.

Greyer hadn’t noticed how the feeling clung to people when she first arrived, but she’d lived here long enough that the feeling of desolation and depression began to filter into her own being. 

She didn’t like it. 

She’d come here hoping that something in the Force would go her way, but now, Greyer consciously had to resist hopelessness. She knew she was here for a reason, and she needed to remind herself of that.

But the feeling of desolation hung in the air, and Greyer was forced to watch it drag down her peers (and friends) in Niima Outpost. It was all too easy to see that the social systems held in place by people like Plutt helped maintain that feeling.

If you were down on your luck and trying to rebuild your life, Jakku wasn’t the place to come. Anyone in debt stayed in debt, no matter how much you paid it off, there would always be more. She’d seen Unkar Plutt make sure of that.

Greyer felt fortunate that she’d managed to avoid that with the junk boss.

The only place she managed to escape the feeling was in Tuanul, the Sacred Village of the Force. Of all the peoples living on Jakku, Greyer noticed that they were the only ones on this planet who were content with their lives. None of them ever acted desperate to leave or discouraged that they can’t. They were content.

Well, them _and_ the Teedos, Greyer figured. The Teedos were just weird though.

> ****
> 
> **Entry # 19**

****  


Greyer readjusted her goggles to keep them from slipping down her face. Jakku’s sun was descending from its zenith, so she shielded her eyes from the brightness as she looked over the Sacred Village of the Force.

“ _Almost done,_ ” Greyer told herself privately after doing a quick headcount of the line near her speeder. She wasn’t in a hurry, but she wouldn’t mind getting back to Niima Outpost early. After months of visits, Greyer had grown comfortable around the Sacred Village. Even still, she felt uneasy looking the older villagers in the eyes.

It was an ingrained instinct for Greyer to remain unknown, and it was her opinion, the older villagers were most likely to recognize her. It wouldn’t have surprised her if some of the village elders had visited the Temple when she’d lived and trained there as a Padawan. Lor San Tekka had after all. 

“Thank you, Miss Greyer," a little girl said as Greyer withdrew the transfer hose from her earthen jar.

Greyer felt a frog form in her throat as she attempted to respond. Her reply was hoarse and dry from sitting in silence. “You’re welcome.”

The little girl was all smiles as she waddled over to where the girl’s mother stood, waiting.

Greyer couldn’t help smiling at the scene as she coiled the transfer hose and clipped it to her speeder. Childish pride rippled through the Force as the child showed her mother that she was helping with grown-up chores.

“ _You don’t need to be Force-sensitive to know what they’re feeling,_ ” Greyer thought with a twinge of maternal instinct stirring in her. She wondered what it was like to be a mother with a child trying to help.

“All done?” 

“Yup.” Greyer looked over her shoulder to spot Lor San Tekka approaching. “Anything I can do for you?”

“Perhaps,” the old man said, scratching his chin. “Our builders have been working diligently on the cisterns and vaporators, but we’ve encountered problems and setbacks that’s caused a pause in construction. Safety and quality are our main concerns. We would like your opinion of the project before we resume, if you’re willing, of course?”

“I’ll see what I can do, but I won’t promise anything,” Greyer responded with a shrug. “I’m no expert on vaporators, I just know how to make machinery work. I might even know a few scavengers who can do it better than me.”

Lor San Tekka nodded, understanding. He was about to say something more when there was a noticeable tug on the old man’s tunic. Neither of them had noticed the little girl walk over while she and San Tekka were talking.

All the pride Greyer had seen from earlier was replaced with shyness. The little girl glanced between Greyer and Lor San Tekka with childish fear of interrupting grown-ups.

"Yes, Terris, what is it?” the older man inquired gently.

Greyer acted like she couldn’t hear anything as Terris motioned for the village elder to bend down so she could whisper something in his ear. Lor San Tekka obliged and knelt down to the child’s level. She watched out of the corner of her eye as the elder nodded along to the little girl’s request.

When the child finished, Lor San Tekka answered quietly, “Well, I think you’ll need to ask her yourself.”

Greyer blinked as Terris turned towards her, shyly. 

“Go on,” the elder encouraged while crouching at the child’s level.

The little girl fidgeted as she spoke. “Miss Greyer, do you want to join me for afternoon meditation?”

“Afternoon _meditation_?” Greyer repeated, glancing at San Tekka.

Little Terris nodded. “Yeah. The old Jedi would take time every after lunch to clear their minds. My momma says you can join us for lunch too if you want.”

Greyer glanced towards the woman waiting for her daughter, and she nodded to confirm her daughter’s offer.

She considered her answer carefully. 

Would it be wise to meditate in the one village on Jakku where she was most likely to be discovered as a former Padawan? But the expectant, innocent look on little Terris’s face could have turned a Sith away from the dark side. How was Greyer supposed to say no?

“That’s a very generous offer, Terris. I don’t think I can refuse.”

Palpable excitement appeared on Terris’s face as she reached for Greyer’s hand and began leading the former Padawan off.

“Don’t worry, Greyer,” Lor San Tekka called after her. “I’ll see to it that no one will disturb your speeder.”

She let a nervous laugh slip as Terris hurried them towards her mother. Regret was already beginning to set in.

The mother gave Greyer a sympathetic look as Terris pulled her forward. She took pity on the former Padawan, and said, “Terris, I think Miss Greyer would appreciate it if we walked home instead of running. Besides, I thought you wanted to carry the water home.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Terris let go of Greyer’s hand and trotted forward to pick up the earthen jar that was almost half her size. She picked up the jar and began to carry.

Greyer mouthed ‘ _thank you_ ’ to Terris’s mother as she fell into stride with her.

“Thank you for saying yes. I’m Ceran Kenor, and you’ve already met Terris,” she said to Greyer as they walked through Tuanal. “My daughter’s enchanted by you. It’s not often we get outsiders, let along outsiders we can trust.”

That surprised Greyer. As far as she knew, it’d been ages since anyone had thought highly of her and said as much. She was shocked that she’d done so little to each so much admiration.

“I’m flattered, but I _really_ didn’t do that much.”

“Oh, but you have. You’ve brought water to a place that would die without it,” Ceran objected. “If the Force is the breath of life in the universe, then water is its lifeblood.”

Greyer nodded quietly. She partially agreed with Ceran’s assessment. Instead, she changed the subject.

“Does she need help?” Greyer whispered. Terris was waddling ahead of them, obviously determined to struggle to carry the earthen water jug.

“Yes, but she won’t admit it,” Ceren replied. “She’s at that age where she wants to be grown-up so bad, but also wants to be a child for as long as possible.”

“We’re here! Come in!” declared Terris proud.

Terris stopped in front of an adobe hut that was small and looked like it’d been built out of necessity with no aesthetic thought to it. Similar to Lor San Tekka’s home, strings of beads as tall as the doorframe were the substitute door.

Ceran gave Greyer a sheepish look. “It's not much, but it’s all we’ve got.”

Greyer would have assured Ceran that it was fine, but instead, she doubled her pace when she noticed how Terris was struggling to bring the water jar indoors. She pulled aside several strings of beads for Terris. The little girl was struggling with the jar. She was running out of steam, and the jug was listing threateningly to one side as she drug it inside. 

Against Greyer’s better judgment, she subtly reached out through the Force and adjusted the jar so it wouldn’t spill. She wanted to make sure that no water was lost.

Ceran thanked her for holding the beads aside and invited her to sit on the approximate of a chair.

Greyer loosened her sand scarf and shrugged off her vest before setting it aside along with her goggles. The Kenor’s hut would provide enough protection from the elements while she relaxed.

Terris set the water jar by what Greyer guessed was the hut’s stove before taking a seat beside Greyer. She practically danced in her seat as Ceran set their lunch on the table.

“It’s not much,” Ceran said apologetically.

“It’s alright,” Greyer reassured, reaching for the cup of soup. It didn’t look so bad. The soup looked watery with diced vegetables and bits of shredded bloggin breast floating around. “I haven’t had a mother’s cooking in years.”

A smile crept across Ceran’s face as Greyer took a sip. It wasn’t the tastiest thing she’d had in her life, but considering her meals on Jakku were mostly made up of stale, rehydrated emergency rations that were sometimes decades old, so she thoroughly enjoyed eating something different.

The sound of content silence took over the Kenor’s hut, at least until Terris finished her soup in several quick gulps. Immediately, she began talking Greyer’s ears off.

Greyer ate her meal slowly, savoring the hot meal, as Terris began teaching her everything she knew about Jedi meditation. The information wasn’t new to Greyer, but she listened patiently.

“So, you gotta sit criss-cross in a sand circle. But it isn’t just any sand circle, it’s blue sand. Jedi would use blue sand from Ilum, but because we’ve never been to Ilum, so we dye it blue,” Terris explained as only a child could. “And to meditate, you gotta clear your mind and just not think. Lor San Tekka says that it’s like letting your thoughts flow like water, but I just try not to think - I don’t think it works. 

“Elder Lor San Tekka says that the Jedi were able to sense the Force flowing through and around them when they meditated, but I’ve never felt the Force. But Momma says that’s because we’re not Force-sensitive, but we still meditate because it helps with naps and concentration.”

Greyer nodded, understanding. It explained why a non-Force-sensitive person would have their child practice meditation - naptime. It must have made life for Ceran somewhat easier.

If she hadn’t been Force-sensitive, learning to meditate as a child would’ve been unbearable. She remembered how she could always sense something just beyond her consciousness, learning to meditate unlocked that understanding.

However, getting nine-year-old Greyer to sit still long enough to learn drove Master Luke up the Temple walls. Those were fun memories.

Now, adult Greyer couldn’t imagine what teaching a child who wasn’t Force-sensitive would be like, she didn’t think she wanted to. Internally, Greyer swore to herself that someone else would teach any future younglings to meditate. She had not attained that kind of patience, nor did she expect that she would.

“Momma, may we have the sand please?” Terris finally asked after another minute or two of explaining meditation techniques.

Ceran nodded. “Of course.”

The older woman reached for a leather pouch from a high shelf on the wall and handed it to Terris. The little girl hopped from one foot to another as she grabbed Greyer’s hand and guided her to a bare patch on the floor.

“Here!” little Terris declared. “Here is where I meditate, and this is how you make a meditation circle.”

Terris opened the leather pouch and pulled out a liberal handful of vibrant blue sand. She then sprinkled it on the ground at an arm’s length away from her. The circle ended up being more of a lopsided oval.

With a dramatic plop, Terris sat down in the middle of her creation, looking very proud of herself.

“See? Now, you try. I’ll meditate while you do, it’ll make you feel better.”

Terris offered Greyer the pouch with expectant innocence.

“I’ll give it a try,” the former Padawan said with a smile.

Greyer waited for the little girl to close her eyes before beginning. 

She gingerly slipped a hand into the pouch and thoughtfully estimated how much she’d need for the first section of her circle. Deliberately, she sprinkled a solid line at about an arm’s length from where she sat with her knees tucked under her. The sand only lasted a little while, so she reached in for another handful, and continued the process. 

Consciously, Greyer knew that she should just make a sloppy circle to appease Terris, but it was instinct to start meditation by creating an appropriate circle. This was something that Greyer took seriously, and it’d been far too long since she’d practiced this form of meditation.

She continued to sprinkle the azure sand until she’d formed a perfect circle around herself. But the circle wasn’t complete yet, not for Greyer and the tradition she adhered to.

With a little extra sand, Greyer added more intricate details. Parallel and dissecting lines ran through the circle’s curvature. Smaller circles entered and exited the large one.

She didn’t know how much time she’d taken to create her sand circle. Time felt irrelevant when she drew, but when she was satisfied, Greyer set aside the leather pouch and started the deeper meditation.

Creating your meditation circle was the beginning of a Jedi’s meditation if this was their preference. Drawing the circle helped one’s mind to get into a flow. Next, to continue concentration, a Jedi would focus on their breathing until their mind was ready to go beyond themselves.

This is exactly what Greyer did.

“ _In_ -out, _in_ -out,” she murmured, placing her dusty hands in her lap. “The Force is all things and I am the Force. Flowing through all things, there is _balance_.”

After several minutes of basic breathing exercises, her consciousness drifted beyond herself. It wasn’t necessarily a conscious decision. A part of her knew she should refrain from going deeper, but Greyer felt relaxed and serene enough to let it happen.

Feeling the Force flowing through her and around her felt reminiscent of wading into a deep, powerful river that could wash her away at any moment and yet Greyer was completely at peace.

It flowed through the Kenors and the villagers going about their midday business. Her consciousness meandered beyond the Sacred Village boundaries and she felt the primitive living essences of Jakku’s native animals.

Greyer didn’t know how long she’d sat there, time was irrelevant during deep meditation, so it wasn’t until she heard a loud, snorting snore somewhere off to her left that she’d been there a while. She opened her eyes and blinked repeatedly to get the spots out of her eyes. 

Once her sight returned, she spotted Terris asleep on the floor, arms sprawled out wide, and the blue sand was smeared across the floor.

She stood and stretched, careful to avoid stepping on the blue sand. Her legs were stiff and her neck cracked. She wondered just how long she’d been sitting there.

With light steps, she moved over to the sleeping child and gently picked her up. A quick scan of the one-room hut revealed the sleeping area, where she spotted a well worn and well-loved stuffed animal. Greyer quietly set Terris on the bed, pulled a bit of blanket over the girl, and set the stuffed toy in Terris’s arms.

A soft smile crossed Greyer’s lips as she stood up and turned to leave. It was only then that Greyer noticed Ceran essentially staring at her.

“I hope I haven’t overstepped any boundaries,” Greyer whispered as she walked to where Ceran stood by the stove.

Ceran shook her head vigorously. “No, no. Not at all.”

Greyer felt relieved, but the expression on Terris’s mother didn’t change. She looked surprised if a bit worried.

“Is everything alright?” 

“Yes. Well … _um_ ,” Ceran responded in a whisper. She looked as though she was having trouble finding the correct words. “There were pebbles and smaller objects ... _floating_ while you meditated.”

All Greyer could say was: “ _Oh_ …”

This wasn’t shocking news to Greyer. When she was younger and living in the New Jedi Temple, it was well known that anything that wasn’t nailed down while Greyer meditated would be levitating around her and she wouldn’t even know it. But, she thought she’d outgrown that quirk - apparently, that wasn’t the case.

“Is _that_ … normal for you?”

Greyer nodded sheepishly. “You could say that.”

It took Ceran a moment to understand the implications of what Greyer meant, but she finally nodded too. “You’re … different, aren’t you? You're Force-sensative, aren't you?”

“Yes, I am.” Greyer felt like she’d reverted back to her awkward stage in her teenage years. Except, this time, it was worse than attempting to talk with her X-Wing pilot crush. “Thank you for having me, Ceran, you’ve been a gracious host and I really appreciate your hospitality. I’m sorry if I’ve disturbed you at all. I should be going.”

Greyer quietly took two or three strides towards the doorway, scooping up her sand scarf and goggles and shimmying her way into her vest as she went.

As she reached for the strings of beads hanging in the door, Ceran said, “Thank you for making my daughter’s day. May the Force be with you.”

“May the Force be with you,” Greyer replied as she paused in the doorway. “ _Always_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rayner here,
> 
> Thanks so much for reading thus far. I hope that you've enjoyed it.
> 
> Turns out recently, I've been writing entries out of order. Sometimes it comes easy, sometimes it doesn't. It's been fun writing it thus far though, and I look forward to sharing future entries because a few of them were so much fun to write. 
> 
> Also, while I am no artist and cannot draw anything worth saving my life, I would highly recommend looking up meditation circles from Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order. I've been playing the game, and in meditation circles are used as save points in games, and I find that they're rather pretty. Look them up if you'd like a cool visual.
> 
> ~Rayner out


	9. Entries: 20 - 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Greyer encounters a very instructive Force ghost, does business with Unkar Plutt, and contemplates boredom.

> ****
> 
> **Entry # 20**

**  
**

Vaporator-one was well on its way to coming back into working order, and for that, Greyer felt proud of herself. For her, it was one of her proudest achievements.

Yes, she’d been able to maintain a high-efficiency schedule when working in the First Order. Yes, she’d been able to maintain that efficient schedule while spying for the Resistance. And, yes, even before then, she’d been able to work on the high-pressure maintenance team for X-Wings before she’d started spying. Greyer took pride in those things and her accomplishments. She’d done her job well.

But, in all those situations, Greyer was never alone. She’d always been a cog in a much larger team. There’d been a network reinforcing Greyer’s activities and achievements.

Here on Jakku, Greyer was alone.

There were a few people around her who she considered a part of her community, like Rey and Lor San Tekka and most of the villagers in Tuanal. 

But, it wasn’t anything like the populations of people larger than cities supporting her and backing her up when she was in the Resistance or the First Order.

Her community on Jakku was small, but she’d had to grow it over the years. Greyer didn’t have the luxury of having others to pick up her slack when she needed time to herself. She couldn’t wake up tomorrow and do nothing, the consequences of that kind of relaxation could mean her death and the death of others.

She could only rely on herself. There was no vacation, no shore leave, and no sleeping in.

Sometimes, Greyer missed it.

But, she still took pride in her work. That much was her reward. It was her satisfaction.

“ _Just need to find a working water reclaimer, and it should be finished,_ ” Greyer noted as she closed up the paneling of vaporator-one for the time being.

There was nothing left to do beyond sealing it off from the abrasive environment until she had the necessary part. The water reclaimer would strain what little humidity was in the air out of it, and until she had a working one, vaporator-one was nonfunctional. 

For now, it was enough to have repaired the drains and a couple of pipes. She was in the final stages of renovations, and it was only a matter of time before she had the ability to complete it.

Greyer stretched her arms towards the sky as she stood. 

Daily maintenance, routine checks, and additive repairs were now complete for the day. Just in time too.

Jakku’s sun started to rise above the ridgeline. It’d be another hour or so before vaporator-two was in direct sunlight, and then thirty more minutes before Greyer could start the water transfer.

The shadows were a good indicator of how much time she had before the stored water unfroze. Her vaporators ran smoothly enough after years of daily problems that Greyer usually had free time on her hands, she just had to use it wisely.

There were a number of ways she could spend it, such as meditate or tinker with scrap metal.

Today, Greyer sat down decidedly in the sand, leaned against her speeder, and listlessly watched the scant clouds that were in the sky.

She blinked, sleepily, trying to remember a time when she’d seen a cloud big enough to be a storm cloud. 

“ _It must’ve been a lifetime ago that something other than sand darkened Jakku’s sky,_ ” Greyer thought with a content sigh. 

Staring at the sky wasn’t much of a way to spend her free time. It made Greyer regret leaving her datapad behind when leaving for Jakku. She missed being able to read books and enjoy other kinds of media.

Greyer didn’t normally get bored, but eventually, her eyes did close from staring at the endless blue expanse. Her mind entered a hazy state between wakefulness and sleep. It was similar to the state of mind she’d enter to meditate, except it was less focused and entailed a much more meandering mind.

This would normally lead to Greyer napping. She fully expected to fall asleep, but that didn’t happen today.

“ _ **Stand and fight!**_ ” someone barked at her.

Greyer’s eyes shot open and she staggered to her feet and stumbled in the sand. Her right hand was on her lightsaber hilt attached to her belt and quickly scanned the area.

The canyon’s shadows had barely passed vaporator-one. Beyond her first vaporator, into the craggy canyonland, she saw nothing.

No tracks. No speeder. No person. No indication that anyone had passed that way since she’d come that way in the morning. But a stiff breeze quickly erased evidence of movement on Jakku. What were the chances that she’d slept through it?

Her eyes roamed towards the other end. She’d be shocked if someone found her by coming that way.

It was an endless maze of wind-eroded gulches and dark ageless caves that sentient beings haven’t set foot in for centuries. But if someone managed to navigate that and find her, Greyer would feel obligated to offer them a drink and in this case, fight them.

Greyer shifted defensively into a stance and unclipped her saber. She saw no one.

There were other ways to get to Greryer’s moisture farm, though, if someone really wanted to find her. 

When she’d picked a spot to plant her vaporators, she didn’t think she’d need to find a defensive position, so Greyer knew she was vulnerable to attackers coming from above.

Until now, Greyer only ever worried about ripper-raptors - Jakku’s reptilian avian predators, not people. 

“Who's there?” Greyer demanded, but she didn’t wait for an answer.

She closed her eyes and actively sensed the Force flowing through and around her. The Force would help her divine the enemy’s position and it’d give her forewarning of incoming aggression from the cliffs above.

But all she sensed above her were a couple of resting ripper-raptors. 

The Force revealed her challenger though.

Standing in the canyon, if you could call it standing, was an ethereal figure. Its form, even seen through the Force, was wispy, as though it were there and not there at the same time. It explained why she hadn’t noticed them immediately.

The ethereal figure pointed with tendril-like arm pointed at her. “ _ **Ignite your lightsaber, Padawan. It’s my turn to teach you.**_ ”

Greyer blinked in disbelief and her hazel eyes wider. This was two firsts for her.

One: this was the first time a Force ghost - which was what the specter had to be - had initiated a lightsaber training session. She’d had multiple encounters where they’d advised her movements during her exercises, but no one outright started the conversation.

Two: there was a physical form this time. Before, she’d only heard distinctive, unique voices belonging to long-dead Jedi, but she’d never seen any physical visages belonging to the speakers. Until now. 

She couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. 

The figure was translucent and pale and lacked distinct details, but Greyer could see them. Even if it was just barely, she saw them, and even noticed deep-set imprints in the sand where the figure’s feet ought to be. 

“ _ **Anytime now, kid. Anytime.**_ ”

Greyer mutely nodded, raised the saber hilt, and clicked the ignition. A turquoise glow lit up the morning’s shadows, the blade just within her peripheral sight, but Greyer kept her eyes on the Force ghost. She wasn’t sure what he would have her do, but instinct told her to anticipate anything.

“ _ **Good form, Padawan, but defense will only get you so far. Let’s see how good your offensive forms are in a fight,**_ ” he said, and Greyer frowned.

This was another first, but she didn’t entirely understand. How was she supposed to do that? Fight the Force ghost?

Apparently, yes, fight the Force ghost.

Her eyes widened as she observed a silvery, meter-long blade appeared in his hand. Even if his form was barely visible, his blade shimmered like solidified moonlight.

It was a beautiful sight and a good indicator of where her instructor stood.

Greyer backpedaled as the Force ghost advanced towards her. 

She was still in shock from the whole situation, her reactions slowed from it, but instinct kicked in. She dug her heels in the sand and braced herself for an incoming strike.

The silvery blade hit hers with decisive strength and the dangerous, sickening hum of two lightsabers making contact. It made her stomach drop.

Grimacing, she summoned her strength and repelled the attack and put some distance between the two combatants.

“ _ **That’s pretty decent, kid,**_ ” she heard the Force ghost say, and she couldn’t quite tell if it was an audible or mental sound. “ _ **But you’ll have to go on the offense at some point. There will be times that you need to do more to defend yourself.**_ ”

Greyer nodded. “I think I know what this lesson is about.”

A deep breath of arid Jakku air hit her lungs as she took two seconds to refocus her mind. She needed those two seconds for this lesson. If this was what a Jedi wanted to teach her from beyond the grave, then so be it, especially if she was unskilled in that area.

“In-out. The Force is all things, and I am the Force,” she whispered to herself. Greyer screwed her courage to a sticking place and rushed towards her instructor.

“ _ **That’s more like it,**_ ” she heard him say. Even if encouraging, Greyer ignored it. She needed her focus.

She swung her blade in a decisive arc and brought it to bear against the silver one. The Force ghost parried the blow, but Greyer kept going.

If she was supposed to be on the offensive, then she would oblige.

Using the momentum from her parried blade, she swung into another strike, and another, and another. Each, the instructor expertly parried or blocked. Greyer was sorely outmatched by the Jedi from the grave.

Whoever this Jedi had once been in life, he’d been one hell of a swordmaster.

He blocked her every attack. Nothing she did surprised him, and he didn’t give up any ground to her. Each strike and arc didn’t achieve anything, she knew she needed to do something different.

“ _ **Your stamina is admirable, but can you keep this up, kid?**_ ” the Force ghost asked between blows.

“No,” Greyer admitted and swung her blue lightsaber with all the strength she could muster.

This time, instead of allowing her blade to bounce away from deflection Greyer challenged her instructor. 

The two lightsabers, one sky blue and the other ghostly silver, were locked in a deadly test of strength and power.

For everything that Greyer could muster, it hardly equaled the Force ghost. 

He wasn’t pushing back against her, though she knew he could knock her on her butt with ease. He just held her in place while she tried to force him back.

“ _ **You’ve got spirit, I’ll give you that,**_ ” he said with a bravado that reminded Greyer of her father’s. “ _ **But you’ve got a long way to go before you’ve achieved mastery.**_ ”

With their blades locked in a deadly contest, Greyer got a closer look at her spectral instructor. He was still impossibly see-through, making the details scant. But, squinting passed the glow of their lightsabers, Greyer noticed distinctive curly hair and a roguish grin she thought she’d seen somewhere before.

“ _ **Keep learning, Padawan,**_ ” he said. “ _ **Keep learning.**_ ”

She felt a tension between their lightsabers before the actual shove came. It was just enough time for her to plan her next move.

The Force ghost pushed her back from their contest of blades. If she hadn’t mentally prepared for it, it might have sent her rolling head-over-heels into vaporator-two. Instead, she was only thrown off balance.

She needed a few seconds to completely regain her balance and plant her feet in a much studier stance. But in those few seconds, the Force ghost was on the attack.

Instinct drove her as she raised her lightsaber up to block the arcing ghostly blade. It wasn’t elegant, but she parried the blow and (less instinctually) slashed in a counter-attack. 

A pattern emerged as the lightsaber lesson continued. 

Greyer would attack and strike, her Force ghost instructor would critique her form or encourage her, and then he would deflect one of her strikes before challenging her with one of his own.

As the lesson wore on, every strike, blow, and block became strained. Her arms ached as her muscles learned new techniques. 

But it felt invigorating and jogged memories of long, exhausting days learning basic lightsaber forms from Master Luke. But Jakku’s heat and the uneasy sand beneath her feet was starkly different from uneven flagstones of the Temple. Though the gossamer appearance of her teacher easily reminded her that she wasn’t at the Jedi Temple or a Padawan anymore.

“ _ **You learn quick, kid,**_ ” the Force ghost said to her from the other side of their lightsabers linked in a challenge of strength. “ _ **Keep it up.**_ ”

Greyer nodded in response. She wanted to say something else, but before the words could form in her mouth, her strength failed. She stumbled backward and over her own two feet.

Exhaustion fully set in.

She was tired and hurried to her feet. The last thing she wanted was to be caught prone. At least she still had a tight grip on her lightsaber.

“Where’d he go?”

Greyer spun around once, twice, and then a third time, but no one was there. 

Only footprints in the sand were evidence that she hadn't dreamed up her Force ghost teacher, and even then, the gentle breeze was erasing it from existence.

She was alone in Goazon Badlands once again. Her heavy breathing and the gentle sound of shifting sands was the only sound Greyer could hear.

She was alone again.

> ****
> 
> **Entry # 21**

**  
**

“What do you want, Off-Worlder?” Unkar Plutt barked in Greyer’s general direction.

It was unsurprising that she sensed malice and contempt ooze off the Crolute junk boss. Years of participating in Niima’s economy, and being one of the most stable parts too, hadn’t endeared her to Plutt. He let it show whenever Greyer had any business with him.

Greyer easily hid her annoyance from Niima Outpost’s head bully as she sauntered into his compound. She thought it best not to wear emotions and opinions on her sleeves when doing business.

“Parts,” she answered firmly.

Plutt narrowed his beady, inset eyes and Greyer held his gaze. He was well aware that she wouldn’t submit, and she was intent to remind him of that.

“What kind of parts?” he grumbled.

Greyer scoffed. “I’m looking for the usual interchangeable hoses and flexible piping as well as insulated wiring and a water reclaimer. Anything else is my business, but I’m sure you wouldn’t be opposed to browsing either.”

The Crolute huffed but motioned for her to move along.

She smirked. She had credits and Plutt knew it. 

And though he hadn’t seen anything more out of Greyer in years, the junk boss remembered she owned more than credits. Greyer suspected that Plutt would drain her dry of any kyber and other treasures she had if given the chance.

Plutt’s thuggish guards parted for her to enter part storage. The junk boss intentionally placed the scavenged parts he purchased away from the scavengers. If they knew what their salvage was actually worth there would be a riot. Greyer would happily participate, but she wouldn’t be the one to start it, a local would need to.

Greyer began to meander the rows and rows of random miscellaneous parts and pieces of ships far older than her. Even with her experience with starships from both sides’ successor, she had trouble identifying where some salvage came from. They were usable, Plutt guaranteed that, but they were so old and so weathered and so different that she’d never seen anything like it before.

Besides Greyer, one of Plutt’s goons walked purposely around storage - likely collecting requested items for the junk boss, but they left the former Padawan be. She appreciated that privacy. It meant that Plutt (likely) didn’t have anyone spying on her today.

“What else am I gonna need?” she muttered softly to herself. Her fingers brushed up against larger bits of salvage, contemplating her ship’s needs and the trade-offs of postponing repairs.

Her freighter was nearly ready to break atmosphere and touch the stars, but there were still a few bugs in the life support system. She wouldn’t yet trust it with her life. In its current state, Greyer wouldn’t trust it to keep her ship cool in a Jakku heatwave. It was a problem she could resolve, though. 

Greyer eyed up what looked like a partial atmospheric regulator that might have been from an Imperial troop transport ship. She wasn’t quite sure since only half of it made it to Niima Outpost, and parts of that design had changed since Imperial ships cruised the stars.

In any event, it was only half there and it looked compatible with her ship. She could make it work. 

Interchangeable pipes, wires, and smaller parts were a blessing from the Force. With those supplies, Greyer could make almost anything work if she put her mind to it.

“ _I bet this is gonna cost me a leg,_ ” Greyer thought as she inspected the piece more closely. She felt certain that there was something in there that could be useful to finalizing repairs on her freighter’s life support systems.

“We’ve collected the parts you wanted, Miss Greyer,” someone sheepishly said off to her side. Greyer saw that the speaker was a little boy who couldn’t have been much older than seven or eight. She wondered how he’d gotten to Niima Outpost.

“Thank you. Tell Plutt that I want this too, please.” Greyer gave it a slap as she stood and stalked towards the exit.

She discreetly patted a pouch on her belt. The credits and currencies within felt like enough to purchase the machinery. 

The junk boss had inflated prices, sure, but life as a moisture farmer could be rather lucrative even with fair rates and prices.

The large, swollen Crolute was waiting for her at the back of his stand. The parts she’d requested were set out in front of him.

He gestured to the collection. “This what you looking for, Off-Worlder?”

The coils of hoses, flexible piping, and insulated wiring looked passable from a visual inspection. If there was something that she wasn’t seeing, Greyer knew how to fix it and make it work for her.

The water reclaimer, on the other hand, needed a closer look.

Greyer reached for it, despite the gruff look from Plutt. She sensed that the junk boss disliked the due diligence she used. There was a chance that she discovered an issue that’d be a point of contention in price negotiations.

Today wasn’t any different. Greyer spotted hairline crack ran up and down the length of a solid tube meant to store reclaimed water at high pressures.

The small crack rendered the whole piece of machinery nonfunctioning, but she could fix it.

“This’ll do,” Greyer responded confidently. “However, the water reclaimer is nonfunctional in its current state.”

“What’d ya mean? Nonfunctional? That’s the most functional water reclaimer on the planet,” blustered Plutt.

Greyer schooled her face. She owned the best functioning water reclaimers on Jakku, and they both knew it. It was the key to making her cobbled together vaporators work. 

“That’s a thin crack. It compromises integrity. If installed on a ship, it wouldn’t hold pressure long enough to collect any potable fluids.” She tapped the glass tube with her broken fingernail and made the most annoying ping. Plutt cringed. It got the point across. “ _Half_ price.”

“Three-quarters price,” Unkar Plutt grumbled.

She got the sense that the junk boss wouldn’t budge, so she nodded agreement. “How much for it all and the half atmospheric regulator?”

Plutt grumbled to himself as he did the mental math. Finally, he responded, “Eight hundred and fifty credits.”

“Five hundred fifty,” was Greyer’s counter offer, and so began the bartering process. She purposely offered low, Plutt would lower his prices.

It went on for a while. Greyer made sure to stay within her means and keep from pushing the junk boss too hard. She wanted to get the best price she could without making an enemy.

“Six hundred seventy-five credits. _Final offer_ ,” Plutt doomed, and Greyer knew she’d pushed him as far as she dared.

Without blinking, Greyer confidently agreed, “Done.”

She reached for pouches on her belt where she kept her currencies and counted the agreed-upon amount. No more, no less was put on the table. Greyer didn’t want to reveal to Plutt or any of his goons that she’d carried more than enough with her to this transaction.

“Good. Good,” Unkar Plutt muttered, putting the rectangular metal coinage in a pocket of his own.

“Have your people bring the regulator and the reclaimer to my ship before sundown,” Greyer said. She made sure that it didn’t sound like a request.

The junk boss grumbled but agreed to have someone do it before walking off to his front facing stand.

She quickly threw the coils of flexible piping, insulated wires, and hoses over her shoulders, and hurried out of Plutt’s compound. Her business was done here and she didn’t want to be there longer than she had to be.

The noise of Niima Outpost resumed when she’d left it behind. People went about their business, animals mewled and barked, and droids electronically chattered. The buzz of machinery was barely audible above the normal din of people.

The crowd of people working was slowly ebbing as it often did when the evening started to set in. They were either heading home, like Greyer, or heading to the cantina for drinks.

Greyer meandered through the crowd towards the outskirts where her ship was docked. That was where home was for her right now. It was familiar and hers and almost ready to see the stars again.

> ****
> 
> **Entry # 22**

****  


Greyer knew that her natural enemy was the Dark Side and those who would call upon that side of the Force for power. They were philosophically and morally opposed to her, and she was pretty sure that they didn’t like her on a personal level too. Though, that was just a hunch.

This came with the territory of being a former Jedi Padawan and aligning herself with the Light Side of the Force.

She didn’t mind it anymore. While Dark opposed Light, it’s agents, like herself and Kylo Ren, needn’t be as stagnant as that. If a Jedi can fall from grace, then a Dark sider could return to the Light, or such was the belief of Greyer.

On a more personal level, things like monotony was a more pressing problem for Greyer. She could resist the Dark side and fight those who would use its power, but boredom wasn’t so easy to combat.

Meditation only did so much. 

Martial and target practice occupied her time too, and her improvement would’ve made Master Luke and her father proud in respective areas. 

Work on the vaporators was her main occupation and was most of her schedule throughout the day - she hadn't finished visiting the Sacred Village just yet. 

Repairing her ship nicely kept her hands from being idle most hours of the day.

Still, there were plenty of hours in the day with nothing to do.

Greyer could handle doing nothing, most of the time. Doing nothing was kind of like meditating, but at the same time, it wasn’t. It was far less focused and therefore dangerous.

Her mind wandered and she grew restless. This was not necessarily a bad thing, but it sometimes left Greyer thinking about the future.

“ _The Force called me here for a reason,_ ” she reminded herself whenever she longingly thought of the future. “ _I need to wait and find it._ ”

She still heard the call whenever she meditated and concentrated on it.

“ _ **Listen! Wait!**_ ” the Force still said when she could hear it clearly.

“ _What for what, though?_ ” Greyer wondered when she watched Jakku’s sunrise or set, or when she decided to visit the cantina for a hard drink. “ _It’s gotta be good if the Force’s got me waiting this long._ ”

But that didn’t stop her from looking longingly towards the stars and wondering how her family was. There were days that she missed them all.

Maybe she should see if an off-world trader was selling tea leaves and offer to brew a cup for Lor San Tekka. While she’d rather not talk about life at the Jedi Temple or life with the Resistance, she wasn’t opposed to sitting with someone familiar with her old life.

“ _That’d be nice,_ ” Greyer thought with a sigh as she turned in for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rayner here,
> 
> Woo, this took a lot longer to write than I really wanted, but it sure was fun to write. 
> 
> For those who've read this far, thank you oh so much. It's incredibly encouraging that more than myself is enjoying this story. 
> 
> I hope that you're all doing well in these unique times, especially if you're in a quarantine of some kind. I hope that anything I write can help you pass the time.
> 
> Also, if you have any tips on writing fight scenes, feel free to point me in that direction. It's been a while since I've written a fight scene, and I feel like I've forgotten how. 
> 
> ~Rayner out


End file.
